Homecoming
by Madame Mush
Summary: A series of strange letters are delivered to Estelle long after the fall of the Adephagos, and they mark the beginning of a mystery that threatens the lives of all within Brave Vesperia. Post-Game, YxE, RxR.
1. Letters and Assumptions

**1: Letters and Assumptions  
**

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_oOo_  
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No matter how many times she re-read it, it simply didn't make sense.

_**You've forgotten your brother. Have you no shame?**_

For the fourth time, Estelle stared blankly at the letter and turned over the neatly creased paper to examine the back. Even now, she hoped there would be more.

The other side was as unmarked and mysterious as the blank envelope. There were no other words. Just those, written in a meticulous and nondescript hand.

_**You've forgotten your brother. Have you no shame?**_

The letter was unexpected to say the least, as it had been bundled in with a stack of fan mail that Ioder had delivered to her at their last Council meeting. It had been three years since the fall of the Adephagos, and one since she had finished the chronicles of their travels. Estelle had made an afternoon of sitting in the Zaphias archives and reading through her letters... But of all the wonderful things she had read this morning, it was that letter which had stuck in her mind.

It didn't make any sense however she examined it.

"I don't have a brother," Estelle mused aloud.

There was no return address, and she didn't know how she could possibly come to understand the message any more than she already did. Not wanting to dismiss the mysterious question entirely, Estelle very carefully laid the letter aside, away from the others.

She needn't have worried. Before long, the puzzle continued. Between a 9-year-old's drawing of Repede and a thinly veiled love-letter in the guise of a review, the second mystery unfolded in her hands.

_**You can't keep it a secret. I know everything. Make it right, or you force my hand.**_

"Keep what a secret?" she asked the letter, suddenly worried and perplexed and curious. A closer inspection of the stack of letters revealed more of the plain, unmarked envelopes.

There were three more further down the pile, found in quick succession.

_**Why did you just leave him there? Your book should have explained this.**_

Next was,

_**You can ignore me all you like, but someone must speak for your brother. This is your last chance.**_

Finally, the last letter simply read,

_**We both understand what needs to be done. **_

A small, aer-less bodhi blastia core fell from the final letter and onto Estelle's lap. She stared at it, stunned.

It was once red, but now had the dull and faded look of a pressed flower, musty and ancient and forgotten. Carefully, as if it might bite, Estelle lifted the tiny gem to the light and twisted it about. There were still the remnants of a formula deep in its core.

The blastia core had been dead for three years. It was as empty and mysterious as the letters it had come with, and Estelle cradled the set on her lap without a clue as to what to do with them.

She knew, on some level, that throwing away such things would be very, very stupid.

"Estellise?"

Estelle cried out and nearly dropped the tiny core. Ioder jumped back as well, hands raised as if to shield himself from an attack. They stared at each other for half a moment.

"I-I didn't mean to startle you," Ioder managed, taking an extra step back.

"No, not at all! I was..." Here Estelle gathered up her letters and shuffled them into a messy pile. "I was just reading the mail you gave me."

"That would explain where you've been all morning! All positive, I hope," he said brightly. Judging from his expression, it never occurred to Ioder that there could be any other type of letter addressed to her. Estelle tried very hard not to look as confused and worried as she felt. She hesitated a moment.

"... How long have you been collecting these for, Ioder?"

The soon-to-be Emperor pulled a lopsided face, eyes straying upwards and away.

"Ah... I believe the first arrived about a week after your book Tale of Vesperia was made available at public readings," he replied slowly, thoughtfully.

"So long ago!" Estelle managed, guilty and stunned. She thought of the five accusing letters, collecting dust in Flynn's office along with the other fan-mail. How was she to have known?

"I am very sorry," Ioder apologised earnestly. "But you and Brave Vesperia are always on the move! Not even Flynn seems capable of tracking your progress down most days!"

"No... No harm done," Estelle replied. She hoped very much that none _was_ done.

With careful, contemplative motions, she shuffled the letters into order and very neatly tied them back into their stack with their navy blue ribbon. She was in the process of pulling the bow tight when Ioder took a seat on the bench next to her.

"I- I have some more mail for you," he said shyly. There were two envelopes in his hands, and the young man fidgeted with them idly. Estelle caught a glimpse of her own name in elaborate gold cursive. He continued, "I was going to mail them to Brave Vesperia's guild front in Dahngrest, but that felt so impersonal, and I knew you and Master Lowell were visiting Zaphias for a week, and it felt like as good a time as any..."

Estelle waited patiently, trying not to smile.

"Um. Well, yes," Ioder managed, clearing his throat. "It's the official summons for my... my engagement. Most of the Empire is invited, but I had special invites written up for the... well, for the important people."

"Your engagement! Congratulations!" Estelle managed.

"Oh, of course you wouldn't have heard. The settlement for Lady Clarin and I happened a month ago. Counsellor Bates suggested we get married this coming spring. We were hoping... Well, _I _was hoping you would come."

"Of course! Oh, Ioder, I'm so pleased for you!"

He handed her the invitations, one at a time.

"This one is to be delivered to Master Karol, as I wouldn't feel right if his guild Brave Vesperia were not present for the ceremony. I owe them so much!" Ioder said brightly. He pointed to the second letter. "And this one is for you and Master Lowell."

And yes, Estelle could see Yuri's name in extravagant curls right beside hers on the envelope. To see their names side by side was strangely shocking. She didn't know what to say.

Shrewdly, Ioder gave her a gentle nudge with his shoulder.

"I was expecting to be the one to receive an engagement invitation first," he said all too casually.

"I-I... I..." Estelle stuttered, feeling her face light up.

"But it can't be helped," he continued dismissively, "when travelling the world is such a time consuming pursuit!"

"Ioder!" Estelle rebuked, scandalised. "Y-Y-You've got the wrong idea! Yuri and I... I-It's not like that at all!"

"Oh," was all her childhood friend could say, disappointed. He looked so crestfallen that Estelle managed to swallow her embarrassment for the moment it took to pat him apologetically on the hand.

"At least you have your own party to look forward to," she said gently.

"Yes, I suppose so," was the strangely despondent reply. Ioder sighed, then brightened considerably. "Well, if not this year, then perhaps the next, right?"

"W-What?"

"Yes, no doubt next year. Oh, speaking of which, Master Lowell is in the courtyard. Lady Judith and Honourable Ba'ul returned an hour or so ago and he came straight here from meeting them. They bring news from Dahngrest."

"Judith?" Estelle echoed, trying to keep up.

It had been some weeks since Estelle had seen Judith last. The _Fiertia _criss-crossed the skies constantly, visiting cities and guild-members under the guise of delivering messages, but would never be stationary for long.  
Who knew how long Judith would linger before flying off to her next destination.

"Y-You'll have to excuse me, Ioder!" Estelle managed, leaping to her feet and pushing her package of letters and invites into her dress pocket.

"Of course. It was good to see you again, Estellise," Ioder replied. He stood a little more sedately, then gave her a companionable hug. Estelle returned it with a squeeze.

"Congratulations on your engagement! I'll see you are the ceremony!" she called, already heading for the door.

"Give my regards to Master Lowell!" Ioder called back, and Estelle nearly stumbled. She pretended not to hear, and hurried out of the library archives and down the hall.

The trip to the courtyard was a preoccupied one; there was so many letters in her pocket that Estelle could feel the bulk of them against her hip, and there were so many thoughts to go along with them that she barely knew where to start. She still wondered about the mystery writer who accused her of a crime she had no idea she had committed. Against a person she was positive did not exist. The only other thought on her mind was, well, Yuri. That was, in its own way, much worse.

Estelle could only wonder how Ioder had gotten such a notion in his head. Engagement? _To Yuri? _She couldn't even _think _about it without it slipping from her grasp like snowflakes in warm hands. It didn't make any sense to her, not really, and the thought that it somehow made sense to her childhood friend was terrifying.  
Was it obvious? Was she being obvious?

The castle was deathly quiet. Most of the scholars that used to bustle about that particular wing had moved on to Aurnion to set up the fledgling town's archives. The empty hall opened out into the sun-drenched courtyard, and there was only a pair of guards lounging on the second floor's balustrade, their halberds propped against the white marble barrier. They appeared to be surreptitiously watching the young man by the flowerbed below.

Yuri was leaning against the fence that hedged the central garden as if he were a part of the display, all fluid lines and darkness against the iridescent white of the flowers. He had one of the blossoms between his fingers, twisting it idly as he looked vaguely off into the distance, Repede at his feet.

Her heel struck the cobble loudly. Yuri turned her way, curious, and broke into an easy smile. Estelle tried not to stare.

"There you are," he said, pushing himself from the fence languidly. "I thought for a minute Ioder had kidnapped you."

"Um," was all she managed, transfixed. Was she being obvious now? Maybe she should look away. Staring was obvious, wasn't it? Perhaps she _was_ standing too close.

"So did he end up finding you? Judy arrived a while ago and wants us on board the _Fiertia _as soon as we can get there_. _We're going to have to cut this visit short... Typical."

"Typical," Estelle echoed, distracted.

Yuri cast a curious look at her with a small tilt of his head and she realised she probably was staring after all. Or standing too close. She abruptly turned and placed one hand on the iron fence that surrounded the garden. The metal was cold even through her gloves, and she willed the sensation to reach her burning cheeks.

"... Something up, Estelle?"

"Oh, nothing," she attempted, trying to use her everyday smile.

"That bad, huh?" The fence creaked when Yuri leant his elbows on it right next to her. "Well, Judy said to hurry, but I can't see the harm of staying an hour or two more if we don't tell her about it. It's been a while since you were home last, right?"

Estelle smiled at him in exasperation, momentarily forgetting to be embarrassed.

"Yuri, thank you, but honestly!" she admonished. "If Judith wants us to hurry, you know it will be something serious!"

"Or she's just getting antsy about sticking around," was the amused reply. Repede huffed morbidly, not bothering to lift his head from his paws. Estelle giggled at their furry companion before she raised her eyes to Yuri. He was smiling at her strangely.

They were awfully close, all of a sudden.

"Um," she managed, stepping away from the white irises and twisting her fingers nervously. A thought occurred to her. "Oh, we- I mean, Brave Vesperia have been invited to Ioder's engagement ceremony. I have an official invitation to deliver."

"That so? Well, I'm up for it. Don't know about the others though... You know it's going to take an explosion to move Rita away from her study."

"I think she'd have fun," Estelle replied with a smile, thinking warmly of her younger friend.  
And she blinked.

"Oh," Estelle managed, surprised. She reached into her pocket and closed her hand over the bundle of letters. She could feel the small lump of the inactive blastia core when she squeezed her fingers, and hope flared.

"What's wrong?" She hadn't noticed Yuri taking a step closer, but suddenly the warm sun had disappeared behind one of his shoulders.

"S-Something just occurred to me," Estelle said honestly. "Yuri, you're a genius. Yes, we should probably go meet up with Judith! I don't want to keep her waiting!"

"Right," Yuri replied in a tone that sounded entirely unconvinced. All too casually, as if doing so was as commonplace as a smile, he passed her the white iris he'd plucked from the garden. She took it wordlessly, stunned.

"Well, I hope whatever it is was worth cutting our visit short," he sighed, then turned and moved away. Estelle gaped at his receding back before shaking her head and following.

Judith and Ba'ul were cutting slow circles in the clouds by the time they reached the plains, and their entelexeia friend was much closer to the city than he usually came. Judith must have been watching for them; they exited the final gate and the _Fiertia _began its descent almost immediately.

The hull of the ship settled into the grass oddly, groaning.

"Good morning," Judith greeted blithely when they climbed over the skirting and onto deck.

"Judith!" Despite having not seen her for some time, Estelle only spared her a quick hug before gripping the taller woman's arms and casting worried glances all over her. "Is everything alright? What's the emergency? Are you hurt?"

"I'm not hurt," was the reply. Far above them, Ba'ul rumbled deep in his chest.

"So what is this about?" Yuri asked simply, glancing over his shoulder as the _Fiertia _lifted from the grassy plains. Judith extricated herself from Estelle's grip and made a show of pulling their luggage - she must have collected it when Yuri was waiting at the courtyard - from the drop harness and onto the wooden deck. She dusted her hands off and smiled prettily.

"I'm not entirely sure myself," she confessed, "but Karol was really very firm about us all getting to Dahngrest as soon as possible."

"Karol? We saw him last week. He knew where we'd be, what could be so important that it has to cut our trip in half?" Yuri demanded, folding his arms. Estelle frowned. Why was he so irritable about leaving Zaphias?

"I _was_ bit curious about the emergency. I was only told that Raven needs us all, in Dahngrest, as soon as we are able to get there. He has serious news, apparently."

"S-Serious news!" Estelle managed, and once more she wrapped her fingers around the bundle of letters and squeezed. An echo of foreboding seized her.

Judith looked up at the sky and touched her collarbone, distracted.

"It's been a while since we were summoned like this, I'm quite excited," she said calmly. "Oh, we're in a bit of a rush, so we'll only stop at Halure briefly to pick up Rita."

"Then on to Dahngrest?" Yuri asked.

"Then on to Dahngrest," Judith confirmed with a smile.

Estelle turned her face towards the horizon.

The morning had started out so calm and normal. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't imagine what it is that Karol and Raven had thought important enough to gather Brave Vesperia for. She wondered, briefly, if she should be more concerned about the new summons or the mysterious letters in her pocket.

Somehow, in her heart of hearts, she knew that they were all far more related than they appeared.

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_oOo_  
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**A/N: The beginnings of what may be a long journey indeed. There shall be action, intrigue, silliness and big lashings of romance all over the top. Originally and primarily YurixEstelle, now I'm afraid there is equal measures of RavenxRita along the way thanks to a compelling series of arguments found right here on ffnet.  
I apologise. And then again, I don't.**


	2. Home Sweet Home

**2: Home Sweet Home**

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"We should be arriving soon," Judith called from the doorway. Rita flapped her hand at the krityan, too preoccupied to look up. There was a pause, and then the _Fiertia's _cabin door closed gently again. Even with her goggles on and the focus up to three hundred percent, the little arcing rings of the formula within the tiny blastia core were so fragmented that Rita could barely make them out. She didn't need distractions.

"Well, It's not a bodhi blastia," she said firmly. She could tell that much at least.

"R-Really? But it's so small!" Estelle hissed. She was hovering over the little cabin table secretively, voice low. For what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour, Rita squinted at her friend suspiciously.

"The formula is in pieces, but it looks more like a mixture of a barrier and hoplon blastia to me... and where did you say you got this from?"

"F-From a fan," Estelle managed, looking somewhat terrified at the prospect. There was a small pile of letters on the bench-top next to Rita's open research journal, and she was about to reach for them when Estelle quickly gathered them up and stuffed them back into her pockets.

"But who would just give away something this weird?" Rita wondered next. She felt a pang of loss when she looked into the core again; the formula was custom, beautifully written, and it almost made sense despite having deteriorated after three inactive years. It was times like this that she missed the age she had helped destroy.

"Is it that weird? I-I was just hoping you could tell me where it was from... or who it belonged to."

"You mean the letter didn't say?" Rita wondered aloud.

"I-I-It was... anonymous..." Estelle stuttered. Rita huffed. Anyone that would send precious items to their favourite author was probably the kind of nutbar to hide their identity as well. She shrugged.

"Whatever. Sounds like a freak to me, but I think I can at least figure out what this thing was. Who knows, it's so unique that figuring _that_ out might just point to who owned it."

"Oh, thank you Rita!" Estelle exclaimed.

"Don't mention it," Rita replied, and meant it. As much as her own research was important and exciting, a change was always nice. And a change for Estelle was nicer again.

"I'll need tools," she said next, hitching her goggles back up on her forehead. "This might have to wait until Dahngrest."

"Do you have a workshop there?"

"No, but I have a license to use the guild ones of the Crossed Crucibles. It shouldn't take me long." The blastia core was almost black in the dim cabin light. Rita smiled at it sharply, daring it to hide its secrets from her. "Is it alright if I hold on to this for a bit?" she asked.

"Please do!" Estelle replied. Rita nodded her thanks, and then tucked the small gemstone into her breast pocket reverently. She knotted the strings of the sleeve, just in case.

"Well, let's go see what Karol is whining about now," Rita announced, dusting off her hands. She and Estelle made their way up to the main deck just as the _Fiertia _began its descent.

The guild Fortune's Market had built a land pier that jutted out of the Union HQ's peak like an elaborate wooden fan, and they approached it in a wide, slow arc. It had been constructed both as a repayment for services rendered and, Rita knew, a not-so-subtle bribe to do more delivery work for the merchants that built it. Even as Ba'ul gently lowered the _Fiertia _to lock against the airborne quay, she could see Kaufman standing by the loading cranes like a really persuasive and attractive vulture. On the other side of the pier was another figure. Rita had to squint to recognise them.

Karol had grown _again _since the last time she had seen him, and the kid, now looking suspiciously like a young man, was almost as tall as Kaufman herself.

Rita tried not to be surprised. She didn't mean to be the reclusive one out of the troupe that had seen so much adventure together, but sometimes research and life just got in the way. The occasional visits were better than nothing, right? The fact that she could barely recognise one of her only friends in the entire world didn't mean anything.  
She had been busy these past few years, that was all.

The weirdly grown-up leader of the guild Brave Vesperia was jumping slightly on the spot, all gangly teenage limbs and ill-fitting boyish excitement.

"Hey!" he called as soon as he caught sight of them. He didn't bother waiting for the gangplank to be lowered; Karol grabbed the end of the walkway and heaved it down to the dock as if he could hurry the whole process along. Estelle barrelled down the plank and threw herself into a hug as soon as he straightened.  
Hadn't they seen each other last week?

Yuri was a little more sedate, but he offered a casual high-five in place of a hug and even Repede nudged the kid with an aloof shoulder. Judith gave him a loose embrace.

Rita stomped off the end of the gangplank and refused to be baited into such embarrassing displays of needless affection.

"Wow Rita, look at you!" Karol exclaimed, face aglow and no longer pudgy with youth. To ruin the effect, he ran the back of his hand under his nose and grinned at her, lopsided. "You've grown up, I almost didn't recognise you!"

She had the sudden urge to blast him right off the dock.

"You're one to talk," she snapped back, folding her arms. "Are you _trying _to resemble a beanpole, or is that just coincidence?"

"Same old Rita," Karol replied happily. He seemed to be waiting for something, and Rita debated with herself before walking over and bringing the edge of her hand down on his head. She had to stretch upwards to do it however, and his grin said that he knew it.

"Idiot," she muttered.

"So, Karol," Estelle burst out, fists pressed to her chest. "I might just die if you don't tell me what this emergency is!" Karol grimaced.

"I don't know much myself," he complained. "Raven was supposed to have been here to explain everything, but he got a message from the Dark Wings this morning and hasn't been back since."

"Typical," Yuri sighed.

"I wonder why the secrets," Judith mused.

"Ugh, he's just useless," Rita exploded, secretly glad for the old fossil's absence. To Judith, she continued, "He probably just called us all here to annoy us. When has he ever had anything even remotely useful to contribute?" It wasn't until Judith broke the pregnant pause with an amused smile that Rita realised she'd expelled a little too much venom. She turned aside to hide her embarrassment, and directed her glare at the city view.

"It's not like that Rita, he said it was something really important! Even dangerous," Karol exclaimed passionately.

"Dangerous enough that he didn't bother showing up," Yuri pointed out satirically.

"I'm still so curious," Estelle sighed. "Do you know when he'll be back, Karol?"

"Well he did say it would be this anytime today, but... Hey, Rita!"

Rita had been making her way towards the warehouse door and she stopped irately, not bothering to turn around.

"What? I've got things to do, you know!"

"We-we should probably wait!" Estelle called.

"I'm not going far," Rita replied in exasperation. "The workshops are on the west side of the inner circle. You can come get me if anything _actually _happens." She scowled fiercely and pinched at the bridge of her nose. She found herself regretting leaving Halure. Suddenly not wanting to think about it, she shrugged hugely and continued on.

"Raven said to keep a low profile!" Karol shouted at her back.

Low profile? Since when had anything that lecherous old coot ever done been low-profile? The only low he'd ever managed was the low he sank when Alexei was still pulling the strings. The very thought of it was an irritating buzz in her skull, so Rita simply swept it aside. She had work to do after all.

She closed the warehouse door on the dock, on Vesperia and on her unstable mood.

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_oOo_  
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"What was that all about?" Yuri asked no one in particular.

"I wonder," Judith replied with a smile.

Estelle was biting her lower lip furiously, and Karol knew something was wrong by the way Yuri kept looking at her in that patient, expectant way of his. The swordsman didn't look like he was going to say anything, so Karol decided to.

"Estelle, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," she replied. After a moment, "Well, I think that may have been my fault. I wanted Rita to look into something for me..."

"Oh, is that all?" he asked. "Nah, she loves that stuff Estelle. I'm pretty sure she's just ticked off with Raven."

"Yeah, the Old Man doesn't even have to be here for it anymore," Yuri pointed out with a grin.

"I wonder," their krityan companion said again.

"I kinda feel bad though," Karol admitted. "Listen, you guys don't have to stick around if you don't want to. I'll wait up here for Raven and meet you at HQ later."

"I'll stay," said Judith. That suited Karol just fine; he hadn't really seen Judith in a while, and he had been meaning to ask her about something.

"Honestly guys, it's okay," he said genuinely. "Anyway, you haven't seen the new guild front, Estelle!"

"Oh, it's done?" she managed, green eyes wide.

"Yeah, I had the last of it installed while you were away." That got her interest. She broke into a smile full of curiosity and excitement. "Well it's sorta for the whole guild, you know," he continued with a sheepish grin. "But I figured you'd really like what I've done with the second floor. You can go see if you like! Me and Judy will join you guys later."

Estelle had already taken a step towards the warehouse door.

"Are you sure it's alright?"

"It's better than waiting around here, anyway," Yuri said flippantly. He absent-mindedly tapped his scabbard against his leg a few times. Looking out over the city, he added casually, "I'm a bit curious myself. I guess we'll see you guys later on."

"Right," Karol replied happily. Repede turned his muzzle from his master, to Karol, then back again. The young guild master could have sworn the dog heaved a sigh, then Repede was on his paws and stalking along after Yuri.

There was a small silence after the warehouse door closed. Karol dusted off one of the wooden crates stacked on the pier and hoisted himself onto it. Judith didn't find a seat; the krityan gazed up at the sky, no doubt seeking out her entelexeia companion.

"It will be good to see the gang all together again," she admitted, eventually giving him a warm smile.

"It's been a while," Karol replied.

It had disturbed him to see Rita. She was... well, she was a girl. She'd never be tall, but she had grown a little, and she'd... well, it was hard not to notice that she had... you know, _filled out _a little. It was almost like looking at another person. Well, it would have been if not for that really familiar anger and that ever-present danger of fiery death. Even then, it was an attractive young woman committing the acts of wanton violence, not a kid, and that in itself was terrifying.

When he'd been asked to call Vesperia back home for an emergency, Karol had been imagining an adventure like their first. It never occurred to him that too much would have changed for that to happen.

"It's not like I'm _scared_ of change," he said aloud, to convince himself.

"Change can be scary," Judith replied pleasantly.

"I-It is the heartbeat of humanity," he managed next. It felt a little like cheating though, as it was one of Raven's favourite sayings. Karol swung his legs, heels drumming out a rhythm on the crate.

"Was there something you wanted to ask?" Judith had a sly look on her face. It was really hard not to choke out a fake laugh and just pretend that there wasn't.

"What makes you say that?" he asked instead, and stalling wasn't _really _running away. Not really.

"You keep looking at your bag. Do you have something in there? Something for me?"

The thought of it was oddly upsetting.

"What? No! It's for Nan!" he snapped. It took a few moments before Karol realised his mistake and clapped two gloves over his mouth. Judith laughed blithely.

"Something for Nan... Now this I have to see."

"Promise not to laugh..." he whined, and reached into his bag. He dug out the slender box and passed it to Judith.

She didn't make a noise when she opened it, but her eyes widened with surprise. Karol had to try _really _hard not to groan with humiliation. He had to look out over Dahngrest when she pulled the necklace from its box and let it dangle in the morning light.

"It's beautiful, Karol," she said.

"I-It's Nan's b-birthday next week," he explained, "and I wanted something nice. That she would, you know, like."

"The gemstone?"

"P-P-Peridot. It's k-kinda like her... eyes."

"Karol, you surprise me."

"Well I figured she'd get alot of p-practical presents, what with her being in the Hunting B-Blades and all. Whetstones and hand-wraps and stuff. I thought it would be n-nice if she got something a little... girlier... Just for... her."

It was hard to watch Judith as she admired the spinning pendant. The green stone cast little lacquer lights across the krityan's face like playful fireflies and she concentrated on the effect so completely that her smile faded and her eyes became sharp.  
She wasn't angry; she was unguarded. Karol knew her well enough to know that the serious, severe expression meant that she was fascinated... and trusting enough to show it.

"I think it is thoughtful and lovely," she suddenly said, and the moment had passed. With quick, efficient hands, she coiled the pendant and its silver chain up and replaced it in the padded box. She passed it back with a smile. "Nan will love it."

"Do you think so? I-I'm not... it's not too much?"

"I think it is just enough."

"I mean, I wanted it to say 'you deserve things just for yourself', but I'm worried she might think it says 'you should pay more attention to your appearance'."

"I think it says 'I love you'," Judith confessed casually. She should have punched him in the teeth. It'd have been less shocking.

Judith leant back against the crate and turned her eyes upward again. Karol tried to say something once or twice, but couldn't quite dislodge the horror that had wedged itself in his throat. Eventually Judith took pity on him and chuckled.

"Are you alright?"

"Well I'm not going to give it to her _now_!" he wailed, horrified.

"Why not?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Don't you love her?"

"WHAT? Ugh, no! That's... just... what? No!"

"Was I mistaken?" Judith wondered, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"Yes!" Karol snapped. There was a small pause.

"Ba'ul thinks you are scared."

"What? Ba'ul? Of course I'm no-" Karol realised he'd leapt to his feet and was shouting at Judith. He stomped a foot and redirected at the sky instead. "I'm not scared, Ba'ul!"

"Are you sure?"

"Ugh, I changed my mind! We're not having this conversation!" Karol threw his hands up in the air and then threw himself down on a packing crate. As interesting as his shoes _were_, he couldn't quite focus on them or the pile of black ash that had leaked out of the crate he sat on. He wondered briefly who else he could have asked for some advice. Estelle would have probably tried to take matters into her own hands. Raven would have... well, Raven's advice probably would have scarred him for life, and Rita was a death wish. And Yuri?  
Out of the question.

On the other hand, he probably should have known Judith would bring her own brand of torture to his personal problems.

"Change _can _be scary," the krityan said cheerfully, and he groaned.

"Well, can we change the topic?" he whined. Judith laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it a little shake.

"The necklace will say anything and everything Nan wants it to," she said calmly. "I think it will be fine."

Karol didn't feel fine. As he sat there with his chin in his hands and his eyes out over the city, he could only think of the peridot necklace, and how he was going to get away with_ not _giving it to Nan. As Judith chuckled yet again beside him, he knew it was going to be a long, long evening.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Yuri had to smile.

"I can't believe this!" Estelle gasped, and she would have tripped up the final few steps if he hadn't have caught her elbow and helped her onwards. She was so excited she didn't even notice.

The guild was lavishly decorated downstairs with such a variation of memorabilia and bric-a-brac that it was impossible to tell just what Brave Vesperia was. Yuri recognised some of the weapons on the walls, and he could almost see Kaufman's fingerprints still on the expensive paintings.  
They were tokens from other guilds. Gifts and rewards and donations. In any other situation, it might have felt cheap and thrifty to decorate a guild front with the work of other guilds. For Brave Vesperia, it was like a photo-album dedicated to all their friends and allies. He and Estelle had spent quite a few warming moments identifying every gift from every friend.

Upstairs was a little different. Yuri stood in the doorway as his companion fluttered about the room like an over-excited butterfly.

Karol had built a library.

"Nice one, Captain," he said softly, admiring the view. Estelle was almost glowing.

"The entire Markim Collection!" she exclaimed, falling to her knees with her hands hovering over a stack of fraying tomes. She eventually dared to lift one, but it was in that moment that something else caught her attention. "And the Encyclopaedia Geraios! F-Fifteen volumes!"

Repede yawned.

"So many non-catalogued works... And entire faculties of research reports, without patents."

Her fingers flashed by her cheek as she tucked some of her hair away, but the twist of pink slipped from her ear and back down into her eyes. She hadn't noticed.

"T-This one is by Master Archibald, before he was discredited!"

The newest treasure she'd found was the bundle of scrolls standing up in a barrel against a bookshelf, and each roll was tucked under Estelle's arm before she discovered the next. They cascaded to the wooden floor when she tried to stand, and Estelle almost fell over herself in an attempt to collect them up again.

She bit her lower lip in a half grimace. Her nose crinkled guiltily. It wasn't until the second nudge at his shin that Yuri drew his eyes away.

"Hmm? What's up Repede?"

His furry companion couldn't have looked more impatient and exasperated.

"We're in no rush," he said dismissively, and then leant against the door jam.

"I-I haven't even read this one..." Estelle murmured. She had sunken down to sit with her back against one of the shelves, book already open in her hands. Her eyes were the colour of an aquamarine held up into hazy sunlight, her focus dancing from left to right over the words.

There was a sharp tug at Yuri's hip. Repede, shirt hem between his teeth, glared up at Yuri with a pointed expression.

"Alright, alright," Yuri said placidly. "Hey, Estelle!"

She turned a page and tilted her head just so, half listening.

"Repede and I are going to get some air, we'll be back later."

"Alright, I'll be here," she said.

"I know," he replied, but she wasn't listening. Yuri heaved an amused sigh and retreated quietly. The guild front was a strange place when you were there alone, and his footsteps down the stairs and across the lobby echoed weirdly. The crowded streets of Dahngrest were much livelier in comparison.

"Where to?" Yuri wondered, watching a street performer set up his busking corner for the day. Repede gave his coat a shake and transferred his pipe from one side to the other with a clack of teeth.

"Well you're a big help," the swordsman muttered. Shrugging to himself and the bustling street in general, Yuri picked himself a random direction and began walking.

He didn't have anywhere in particular to go. Dahngrest wasn't exactly a tourist destination of choice for him, as each street was a struggle to dodge the peddlers and recruiters. It was entertaining trying to make sense of the city-planning however, though Yuri didn't expect to get very far. He officially gave up when he found a guild front for florists right next to a fish-mongers. Repede whined the entire length of the street until they reached higher ground away from the stench.

Yuri took a break by a memorial plinth, waiting patiently for his old friend to rub the conflicting scents from his muzzle with a paw. It was while he was gazing listlessly at the city skyline that he caught a familiar flash of purple. A few moments more and the flash became a figure, traipsing across the rooftops at considerable speed.

"And what have we here..?" Yuri wondered with a slow grin. He bent and picked up a small rock.

He tossed it up carefully, once, twice, then pulled back and threw it with a sharp snap.

He'd caught Raven out like this before. The old man wasn't that hard to catch off guard, and it had always been satisfying to knock him from whatever perch he'd found to nap on.  
That was probably why it shocked Yuri so much when, in a flash of metal, the stone ricocheted off across the rooftops and the distant figure spun fast and low.

Raven had his bow drawn taut and aimed steadily at Yuri before he'd fully registered his target. The arrow-head lowered. Raven's face went from shock to disbelief.

"Easy, Old Man!" Yuri called, a little startled by the unexpected reaction. He cast a look at Repede who sat back on his haunches, ill-at-ease. Together, they watched Raven skid down the roof top, hop from a chimney to a railing and then to another rooftop, then leap to land on the memorial plinth with that peculiar grace he occasionally displayed. The transform bow snapped closed with an angry _shank_.

"Is this what you kids are callin' Low Profile nowadays?" Raven demanded, angry.

"Woah, it's good to see you too!" Yuri replied defensively.

"Didn't Karol pass on the message?" was the next irate question.

"He said to lay low, sure..." Yuri muttered. He scratched the back of his neck before he had the presence of mind to object. "Wait, what is this all about, anyway? You weren't at the dock this morning."

"I had ta meet up with the Dark Wings, and I tried ta get back as fast as I- this is all besides the point! Where's the rest of Vesperia?"

Yuri frowned. A serious expression didn't suit the scruffy old spy at all, and the tone in his voice was very quickly putting Yuri on edge.

"Estelle is at Head Quarters," he said slowly. "Rita's in one of the workshops in the artisan circle, and Karol and Judy are on the _Fierta'_s dock, waiting for you."

Raven cursed.

"Come on, Old Man, you haven't even told me what this is about!"

"An unnamed guild moves against Brave Vesperia today," Raven mumbled distractedly, squinting up at the sun.

"What do you mean, _moves against_?" Yuri demanded. His older friend seemed to come back to the present. He cast him a look that was sharp as sin.

"Listen ta me kid, I ain't got the time ta say this more than once," Raven said darkly. "An unregistered guild has been shiftin' contraband under the nose of the Dark Wings and Fortune's Market. These guys aren't big enough for a charter, and an inquest could only gather that they were interested in us."

"Interested in us _how_?"

"Interested in wipin' us from Terca Lumireis."

It took a moment to sink in.

"Assassins? For Vesperia? But why the hell would anyone..?"

The ground rumbled underfoot like a shifting beast, followed shortly by a deafening, echoing _clap _that scattered every bird in the inner circle from their rooftop roosts. As they watched the birds take flight like so many leaves in the wind, an ugly black cloud rose from the cityscape and the sounds of a confused mob of people replaced the usual marketplace din.  
Yuri's blood ran cold.

"The guild front," was all Raven said. "And so soon."

"Estelle," Yuri managed, stunned. He jumped slightly when Raven gripped him by the shoulder and gave him a rough shake.

"Snap out of it kid! There's still the dock ta worry about!" Yuri shook himself and nodded.

"The dock, right..." he glanced down to his left. Repede stared back knowingly, gave a rolling half-bark, then was barrelling off down the street and around the corner before Yuri could take a breath. He tightened a fist around the leather straps of his scabbard.

"I'm sorry, Old Man. I have to go find Estelle."

"I figured as much," was the simple reply. Raven added, "Listen, if the Wings have the right intel, this city is a minefield. Don't stick around. And don't bother waitin' up for the rest of us. We'll catch up in Heliord."

And then he was gone, already back up to the rooftops and clattering away.

Yuri didn't need telling twice. He shoved and pushed his way through the crowd until he found a side street and started running. No matter how tall the buildings were, he couldn't lose sight of the black cloud of smoke that continued to blot out the early morning sky.

He ran that little bit faster.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: Oh, how I love Judith.  
I suppose now is the time to point out that this fic (and the romances within) is probably destined to get strung along quite cruely by plot. I'll do my best to keep it succinct.  
Also, thank you very much for the kind reviews! They give me great happiness.**


	3. A Problem Shared

**3: A problem Shared...**

.  
_oOo_  
.

"Woah, look at that!" Karol exclaimed. The tower mounted dock was high enough to get a complete panorama of the city, and the smoke cloud was growing like a grotesque mushroom over the inner circle. The usual sounds of the city had morphed into the panicked uproar of a mob, and that was somehow more frightening than the alien horizon.

"Isn't that... the guild quarter?" Judith asked sharply.

"Hey, you're right!"  
Karol leant out over the edge of the dock and looked down. There were people gathering up into nervous groups far below.

"Oh man, what has Yuri done now?" Karol whined. Judith didn't reply. They watched the smoke for a moment, silent and thoughtful. "That wasn't a small explosion... Do you think Rita was involved? She sure was angry," Karol wondered next.

"She said she was going to the artisan's circle," Judith said. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Karol, don't you think that smoke is quite close to our guild front?"

She was right.

"W-W-What's going on?"

"I don't like the look of that." Kaufman had her arms folded tightly under her chest, and her eyes were like icy daggers out across the view. She used the heel of her palm to adjust her glasses.

"Do you know something?" Judith asked. The guild leader of Fortune's Market attempted a smile but only managed a pinched grimace. She was angry.

"Our shipment of explosives for Ruin's Gate was stolen several weeks ago. I was _hoping_ they wouldn't crop back up again in this manner."

"Someone's setting off bombs in the city?" Karol shouted, horrified.

"Karol," Judith said. Her voice was cold and stark.

"That... that explosion was... really close to our HQ," he managed in reply, understanding the look in her eye and knowing that he had it as well. Kaufman's expression darkened.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this," she declared, and then turned on her heel and strode away like an army general. It was while Karol watched her close the warehouse door after herself that he caught sight of Repede sprinting up the outer walkway that skirted the tower. With an agility that had always startled him, the dog didn't bother trying to circumnavigate the warehouse or its multiple doors. He leapt up the stacked crates, across to the lifting platform of the crane and then onto the dock pier as if all of Terca Lumeries' monsters were on his tail.

"Repede!" Karol called out. Something was wrong. He had always been jealous of Yuri and the strangely intelligent dog's ability to understand each other, and now was Karol's time to shine. Whatever mission Repede was on, he was going to figure it out.  
He crouched down, hands on his knees.

"What is it, Repede? What's wrong?"

Repede lowered his head and, against all reason, sped up. Too late, Karol straightened up and tried to step back; his heel dipped over the dock edge and he nearly lost his balance.

"Woah! Repede, what're you-"

The full weight of an adult dog laden with weaponry and armour struck Karol squarely in the chest and they both flew from the wooden pier in a surreal arc.

"Huh?"

There was one serene, peaceful moment of calm before gravity finally won out over momentum, and the leap morphed into a fall.

The wind roared in his ears. Karol watched the fan-like dock shrinking from view as the buildings on either side of him began to blur with speed. They had plummeted halfway down the tower before the second explosion went off, engulfing the pier in a flower of flames and destruction, wood and metal arcing out of the violence and trailing smoke like streamers from a celebration.

Karol just managed to make out the slip of white and blue to his left before something hit him in the head and everything went black.

.  
_oOo_  
.

The streets were almost vibrating with all the fuss that the crowd was making. You'd think they'd never experienced an earthquake before. Rita slapped down her focusing lens and stomped over to the window. She had been fully intended on giving them all one of her most venomous glares, but no one was paying attention to her. She scowled and slammed the window shut.

"Idiots," she muttered.

It took a few moments to remember what she'd be up to when she retook her seat at the workbench. The little blastia core was suspended over a lightbox by a series of clamps usually used for jewellery work, and her hand hovered over her instrument trolley, trying to remember what she'd been using.  
Oh right, the focusing lens.

She twisted the end of the device, pointed it at the blastia and stared sightlessly at her patchwork formula she had written.

Was she really going to stick around for a guild meeting? Rita didn't know how she could get out of this one. It had felt important and worthy of her attention when Ba'ul had descended on Halure like a parade blimp, but now that she was here... now that suddenly there was _all _of Brave Vesperia to deal with, she didn't feel like she was needed at all. It was too much hassle. The team managed their business perfectly well without her, and she had more important things to do.

What had she been thinking, leaving her work behind like that?

Rita shook her head and tried to focus on the core. It had been long dead, that was true, but most of her latest research involved restoring old cores.

Rita knew that the study would never achieve what her fellow mages hoped it would. Aer to mana conversion would never be clean, efficient or quick. Blastia would never run to their previous capacity again, and most of the larger models like hermes, barrier and hoplon simply used too much energy for even their basic functions. Mana could not replace aer.

... Rita stared at the syntax she had written and wondered vaguely if she could use it as an excuse to miss the guild meeting.

"Well, it's not like they _need_ me," she muttered to herself by way of an excuse. "It's not like I ever do anything _specifically _for the guild, anyway." She was barely a member, come to think of it. Her decision to join had simply come from the sudden power vacuum caused from Ioder claiming the throne. The Council was weakened in place of the Knights, their power over the research mages diminished ever further, and Rita had... well, she'd joined Vesperia on a whim.  
She realised that she was nervous about the upcoming meeting. The anxiety gnawed at her gut and that just made her angry. She didn't... well she didn't have _time _to investigate why. Who cared, anyway?

"Focus, Rita," she sighed.

She put down the focusing lens and swivelled where she sat to the instrument tray. It was a good collection, and one she had found laid out for 'Brave Vesperia' next to the work bench in a clearly labelled box. The Crossed Crucibles must have been expecting her.  
She located the starter node and positioned it over the core.

"It's just the same old Vesperia," she told herself aloud. "No reason to get all twitchy. Just go to the dumb meeting, finish up Estelle's blastia investigation and go home. No harm done."

She locked the formula into the node, twisted the face of the device and started it up.

The starter node whirred a little as it collected mana, and then began funnelling the tiniest amounts of it through the conductor and into the formula. It was halfway through the first ring of code when Rita noticed the strange flickering light at the corner of the device.

"What the hell..?"

There was no warning when the node warped and bulged like a water balloon about to burst. The casing was jettisoned free, the interior sparked like mad and Rita didn't have time to get up off her chair before it belched lightning and smoke as it overloaded.

The room exploded with searing white light. The last thing Rita remembered before hitting the floor and losing consciousness was the blastia core, functioning for half a second before cracking straight down the middle.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Brave Vesperia's guild front was a disaster zone. The second floor was precariously still standing, held up by what remained of the smouldering supports and the buildings on either side. It shed brick and debris onto the rubble below. The first floor was a mess, one section of wall simply gone as if some enormous monster had gouged out the brick and mortar and tossed it aside. The windows had been blown out. The door was comically ajar.

Yuri's breath left his lungs in a horrified rush.

"Out of my way!" he shouted, forcing his way past the dumbstruck crowd gathered in front of the rubble. The second he managed to shove past the last gawker the heat struck him in the face like a slap.

Fire continued to lick at the window frames. Black smoke was collecting on the decimated interior.

"Dammit," Yuri muttered, then threaded the straps of his scabbard through his belt and tightened it. His sword bounced annoyingly against his thigh, but he'd need both of his hands. There was a man in a suit beside him; Yuri didn't hesitate before snatching the kerchief folded into the man's breast pocket and took a deep breath. He covered his mouth and nose with it and then moved forward.

"Hey, that's my- A-Are you insane?" the man shouted in horror when Yuri kicked down the guild's door. He ignored the cries of outrage and ducked inside.

The handkerchief didn't do much. The black smoke was so thick that Yuri waded through it, and the first breath he took tickled his lungs horribly. He coughed his way over to the staircase, trying to avoid the fire.  
He didn't spare a second glance at the precious memorabilia, disintegrating in the flames and gathering as ash on their guild's smouldering carpet.

He was halfway up the stairs when the second floor lost one of its support beams. The huge rectangle of wood crashed to the floor, taking a chunk of the stairs with it and narrowly missing Yuri when he flattened himself against the wall. He had to crouch for a moment with an arm over his face; the beam had kicked up sparks and embers when it landed, and the fire roared appreciatively for a moment as it clawed voraciously across the wood.  
There was no time to wait. Yuri slapped a few embers off his shoulders and continued on. There was a gaping hole in the staircase now that would have proved difficult to get by, but he managed to haul on the broken hand-rail until it collapsed like a ladder across the gap. Heart hammering, Yuri balanced his way across it and landed on the upper steps.

He was blinded when he stepped up into the library. The black smoke of all their trophies and gifts was rising up and into the second floor. Ducking low and desperate for air, Yuri crept along the floor and waved a hand uselessly. He was going to suffocate if he didn't clear this smoke soon. Through the haze, he could make out the double-paned window over the street view. He had stumbled a few steps towards it before his progress was halted by a pair of bookcases, knocked over by the explosion and propped awkwardly against each other.

Of course, the whole place would have fallen over like a stacked line of dominos.

Yuri fought down an unfamiliar flare of despair. He stooped and picked up the first heavy object he could find.

It was awkward to throw, but Yuri put every ounce of strength behind his arm when he threw the leather-bound book at the window. It was a lucky throw; it went spine-first through the glass and struck a corner of the window frame on its way out. It had been unlatched. The entire window burst open and the smoke was sucked out in a dizzying rush.

It was still gathering across the rafters though, and Yuri heaved in a cautious breath past the handkerchief before turning. The entire library had been knocked over.

"Estelle!" he shouted, daring to hope that she'd reply. Only the roar of the flames below answered him. He stumbled to where he had seen her last, climbing over a downed shelf to do so, and it wasn't until he'd shouldered aside the only half-standing bookshelf in the room that he saw a smudge of pink in the gloom.

"Estelle!" he tried again. She didn't move.

He could only make out her hair and shoulders. A bookcase had fallen over her, not quite flat. The top of it had caught on the barrel of scrolls and she was pinned in the small nook that had caused. Clattering awkwardly over the uneven pile of furniture, Yuri dropped to his knees beside her and gripped her shoulder. She didn't rouse when he shook her.

"Come on, Estelle," he urged, turning her head gently and dropping an ear to her mouth. It was useless; he couldn't hear her breath in all of the noise, and the window was creating a small wind-tunnel in the room that made everything shift with breath.

And there was that alien despair again, like a kick to the stomach.

"Hang on," Yuri told her, feeling better for treating her as if she were conscious. He dropped his handkerchief over her nose and hooked both hands under the bookshelf that pinned her. He heaved until his shoulders shrieked, but it wasn't any use. Another had fallen half over it, and a third was pinning that. There was another ominous crash of a floor support below, and Yuri knew he simply didn't have time.  
He wiped his sweaty hands nervously down his front, took a shaking breath into his lungs and carefully eased his hands under her shoulders. He eventually managed to hook them under her armpits, and praying to whatever god would listen, he pulled.

Estelle's body resisted at first, and for a horrified moment he thought her legs were pinned under something. Half a heartbeat later and cloth ripped. Estelle began to slip free of the wreckage and Yuri eased her out until her hips appeared out from under the shelf. He ducked down and wrapped his arms around her before pulling her the rest of the distance.

The left side of her skirt had torn and she'd lost one metal capped boot. Better than losing a limb. Yuri propped her against his side until he could adjust his footing, then looped an arm under her knees and lifted her. Had she always been this heavy?

The staircase had been demolished. Yuri could barely tell; the fire had spread out of control on the ground floor and was a roaring inferno that was creeping ever closer.

"Dammit," he managed, trying not to cough.

"-ver here!"

Yuri turned on the spot, wondering if he was hallucinating.

"Over here!" the voice came again. It was muffled and distant, but definitely coming from the window. He stumbled over the stacked bookshelves and, cradling Estelle's head against a shoulder, peered out.  
There was a crowd below. Someone cried out when they spotted him, and then everyone started shouting at once. Not them, then. Yuri turned his head and looked up.  
A familiar face peered back.

"Up here!" LeBlanc shouted, waving a gauntlet furiously. Yuri didn't bother wondering what the lieutenant was doing on a Dahngrest rooftop.

"I have Estelle with me!" he shouted back, but his voice was cracked and weak. LeBlanc nodded, dropped to his stomach and reached both arms down. Yuri blinked with realisation.

It might have been worrying, half hanging out of a second story window and trying to lift an unconscious body upwards, but there wasn't any time for doubt. Not even when Estelle's head had fallen back and the sudden shift in weight had nearly toppled her from his grasp.  
Eventually LeBlanc managed to get both hands under Estelle's arms and he tugged her upwards with a grunt. Yuri braced himself against the window frame and crawled up after them. By the time he'd climbed up onto the rooftop, LeBlanc had Estelle over a shoulder and was already stumbling under her weight to the next building.  
Yuri followed in a daze.

He trailed LeBlanc mindlessly until the soldier chose one rooftop out of many to finally stop and lay Estelle down. Yuri eased himself to a sit, then had the sudden urge to be horizontal.

"You alive, Lowell?" LeBlanc asked, sounding breathless.

"Never mind me," Yuri wheezed, "E-Estelle?"

"Looks like smoke inhalation," was the reply. "The Princess is breathing, don't worry."  
Yuri groaned, a weight lifting from his chest he hadn't even realised had settled there.

"I... I owe you one, lieutenant," he managed.

"You owe the gracious Captain Schwann," LeBlanc snapped promptly, officially. Yuri managed a half-grin. Of course.

"What... What the hell was that, anyway," he asked next. He didn't really expect an answer. It was both as simple as Raven had tried to make it earlier, and as mysterious as it had been before the old man had shown up.  
Assassins. But who, and why?

"From what I was told, you're going to have to get used of that if you stay in the city," LeBlanc said gruffly. The soldier adjusted his helmet visor and coughed. "I've got explicit instructions to get you out of Dahngrest safely and on your way," he said next. Yuri watched the smoke for a moment.

"What about the others?" he eventually asked.

"Taken care of. Not that Commandant Flynn doesn't consider all of your guild worth protecting, but our priority is to shelter the Princess to safety."

"Of course," Yuri sighed. His heart was finally steadying. After a small pause to savour the feeling of relief, he pulled himself up into a sit and shook his head. "What a day," he muttered.

"You ready to get moving Lowell, or am I carrying both of you out of Dahngrest?" LeBlanc asked pointedly, climbing to his feet. Yuri cocked an eyebrow and smiled wanly.

"Keep your shirt on," he sighed, then shakily got to his feet. Ignoring the unamused scowl that passed over the old soldier's face, Yuri made his way over to Estelle and peered down at her slack face.

She was covered in ash and soot. Her dress, normally so pristine and vibrant, had been smudged and charred beyond recognition, the skirt torn roughly up one side. One small foot emerged from the brown leggings she wore, and there were runs and holes in the material up the leg that had lost its boot. It hurt to see her so dishevelled.

Yuri gently ran a hand over her forehead, smoothing out her hair and wondering vaguely where he was going to find a change of clothes for her.

LeBlanc cleared his throat noisily.

"I have my orders, Lowell," he said pointedly. Yuri found himself nodding.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Alright, lead the way, sir knight."

Yuri didn't object when LeBlanc bent to pick up Estelle's prone body, and he didn't object when the soldier began to walk in the complete opposite direction of the Dahngrest main entrance. Aching and still a little breathless, he decided it was alright to trust the dogged old lieutenant just this once. His mind still a little fuzzy. Yuri wondered briefly how everyone else was holding up.  
He realised that he probably wouldn't know until they reached Heliord. A moment later, a darker thought bubbled up from the disoriented fog.

He probably wouldn't ever know if they couldn't even survive the trip.

.  
_oOo_  
.

The first explosion made him leap to his feet. The short but brilliant flash down in the artisan's quarter had him lean forward and cup a hand obnoxiously to his ear. The second explosion resulted in him throwing both arms up like an actor to a standing ovation.  
He spun around to share the pose with his two companions, grin broad.

"Idiot," the woman muttered.

"Yes yes, very pretty," the younger man said, thin lip curled.

"That," the first man with the crimson eyes said, "is music to my ears." He was referring to the sounds of a city in panic, and the melody rose to where they perched on the city wall like waves breaking on a rocky beach. It was their first moment of satisfaction, and they shared it silently.

"Smaller than you usually deliver," the small man said eventually. He managed a few seconds before breaking out into a snide chuckle. He was picking his fingernails with what appeared to be an iron spike; the beautiful woman on his right glared at him so fiercely that he shuffled away from her nervously before resuming.

"I would _prefer _to have bodies left behind to identify," she said coolly. "Our word is not good enough in the circumstances."

"You want me down there sifting through the rubble?" the first demanded, scandalised. The way in which he straightened his already neat jacket and smoothed back his long hair spoke volumes.

"Someone has to," she replied sharply.

They watched the smoke until it began to dissipate.

"There'll have been survivors," she suddenly decided, standing.

"I'm not looking. We have to be scouting the major choke points in case some of them try to slip through."

"I hate this city, I'm not staying."

"Shut up," she told both of them. "There are three of us. Two will leave, one will stay. And since you _insisted _on your precious explosions, I think you can stay to clean up your own mess."

Without looking back, the tall woman wandered away along the city wall as if the discussion was over. She left her tall companion with the expensive clothes spluttering his indignation to no-one in particular.

"Have fun picking corpses out of rubble," the smaller man then sneered, taking his spike and screwing it tightly into a waiting cavity on a large set of brass knuckles. He put it on and flexed his fingers experimentally over the grip. He huffed once more before rolling off the edge of the wall like an acrobat and disappearing into the gloom of the alley below.

"I'll remember this!" the remaining man shouted after them. The empty rooftops didn't reply.

With one last glare at the emptiness, the tall man with the crimson eyes and long, slender ears tugged his jacket on straight with an angry jerk.  
He lifted his head, drew in a breath and strode towards the city centre as if he were wading into a garbage pile.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: Divide and conquer! What fun Vesperia shall have. As an aside, I am suddenly the proud owner of some free time that I usually don't possess. There might be a brief increase in chapter release.  
Thank you yet again for the kind, lovely reviews! Every chapter has felt a bit blind so far, so it's reassuring to know that people still hold interest. You have my extreme thanks!**


	4. Weakness and Compromise

**4: Weakness and Compromise.**

.  
_oOo_  
.

The smoke hadn't cleared yet.

Rita flapped her hands furiously, wheezing, gasping in as much air as her lungs could hold because she couldn't _feel _them. How could lungs go numb? Was she even breathing?

She pressed her hands to her chest and felt it expand, contract, expand again. Air must be getting in. The black smoke was still so thick that she couldn't see a thing, and Rita blinked her streaming eyes furiously before deciding to keep them closed. She had to find the door or window.

After picking herself up after regaining consciousness, Rita had no idea just where she was in the workshop. She blindly stumbled forward, struck her shin on something and fell face forward into what could only have been the instrument trolley. She jerked back with a gasp, knowing full well what sort of instruments she'd left on it.

Shaking, numb fingers prodded at her face in fear, but she could barely tell if she'd hurt herself – tears could have been blood, blood could have been chemical compound.

Rita swung away and crashed in the other direction. It was a wild guess. As it turned out, she was almost right. A low table struck her in the hip so violently her left leg went boneless for a moment; as she clung to the furniture and every nerve tingled sluggishly down her thigh, Rita swore violently and hauled herself to the left. Even with her eyes screwed shut, she slapped a hand down on the window latch without a fraction of doubt. A few slippery attempts later, the metal was unbolted and Rita threw the window wide.

The sounds of a noisy street met her, along with astonished outcries from the closest pedestrians.

Rita opened her eyes and blinked but the black smoke was still absolute.

"M-Miss Mordio!" someone blurted in horror. She flapped a hand angrily, both at the stubborn, inky smoke and the ridiculous tone in the stranger's voice.

"Yes it's me," she attempted and then scowled when her voice barely made it out in a whisper. She cleared her throat noisily and slapped the window ledge furiously. "Someone tampered with the starter node! It nearly killed me! Go find Yuri, Estelle, Karol, anyone! I need to warn them tha- oh, for the love of Aer, why won't this blasted smoke clear?"

There was a dumb silence that made Rita want to ignite something, but instead she ducked back slightly into the decimated workshop and flapped the window shutter angrily.

Rita vaguely heard two voices in hushed conversation, and then the distinct sound of clanking armour as one hurried away. Guards, then. Good. They'd know where to find the others.

"M-Miss Mordio, it should be known that Brave Vesperia have already left Dahngrest. Because of the emergency."

"_What_?" Rita strained her ragged voice on that one; she hacked furiously, throat itching.

"Surely you heard the explosions... They were loud enough to... M-Miss Mordio, you can stop waving your arms, there isn't any smoke."  
And stop she did.

Rita turned her eyes to the voice, hastily dropped them, and then turned around to face the workshop. She licked her chapped lips, tested her voice with a small hum before saying,

"All of Brave Vesperia are gone?"

"They fled the scene of the crime... that is what we were told," was the reply.

Rita was so angry her stomach flipped.

"_Fled the scene_..? Who told you this?"

"Guild Master Henry? Brave Vesperia were reported to have boarded the _Fiertia _and left on that monst- I mean, the entelexeia a little over an hour ago."

It was hard not to panic. The emotion clutched at her chest with ragged talons, squeezing the breath of out her. Had she really been unconscious that long?

"How... How long since they left, again?"

_Bring_ _t__hem back._

"An hour ago," a new voice offered, and she recognised this one in a heartbeat. Recognised it and didn't, all in one.  
_You have got to be kidding me..._ She hunched her shoulders, refusing to turn around.

"Captain Schwann!" the guard exclaimed, and there was another _clank_ as he saluted.

"At ease," was the curt reply.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Rita managed, distraught.

"New Order business... What happened here?"

"N-Nothing that concerns _you_!" Rita shouted, and swung to slam the window shut on the noisy street and, no doubt, their astonished faces. As quickly as she could, she made her way back to the workbench. She hunched over it, taking shallow, even breaths to try and wrangle her anger into something manageable.  
She was almost in control when she heard the door to open.

"Pardon my intrusion," Schwann announced, and his boots thudded dully over the wooden floorboards. With a resounding click, he shut the door after himself. She wondered what sort of karma she'd wracked up to deserve this. He was the last person in the world she wanted to see.  
Damn him, she had more important things to worry about.

"My books," Rita said thickly. "Are they alright?"

There was a short pause.

"Scattered, but not damaged."

"Alright, how about the blastia core," was the next question. He was forced to walk over the bench this time, and she could _hear _him. The rustle of cloth, the clink of metal... a curious breath.

"There's a crack down the middle."

Rita groped for it, managed to unscrew it from the clamps and pocketed the damaged little gem with shaking fingers. Once it was secure, she reached out and managed to seize a fistful of material. She guessed it was his sleeve. With her free hand, she touched her face and rubbed the fingers together before her nose.

"And this. Blood, water or condensed mana?" There was no reply. With an angry shove, Rita thrust him away from her and slammed her hand to the bench top. "Ugh, this is so _stupid_!" Her throat seized up, and she snarled to chase the sensation away. Flapping her hands uselessly, she turned around to wherever it was that Schwann had came to a stop and stomped a foot.

"How can I fix this if I can't _see _it?" she shouted, then bit down on her lip. Self-pity was attempting to creep into her thinking and flip her anger over to despair. Aer's Breath, don't let him see her cry.

Rita swung back to the bench and began pawing for her books.

"Wh-Where's my Qualitative Compendium of Magic Compounds? The new edition should have a subsection on adverse reactions to... to..." Her fingers had been opening the first book she found, but was it the right way up? Was it even the right one? "D-Dammit... You'll have to read it for me, but that's okay. I can probably test the substance with the right application of a malleable base, heated to the right temperature ... That's..."

Schwann's footsteps came to a halt behind her.

"Y-You know how base changes colour when heated right, don't you?" she managed, but the panic was back. How was anyone supposed to fix this..? Her next breath was a gasp, and the one after that hitched and snagged on the panic rising up her throat.

"_Easy_ now, Rita-darlin'."

She _hated_ the relief she felt to hear those words.

Rita slapped away the first hand to try and touch her shoulder, then let the second settle like a reassuring weight across her collarbone. She even allowed herself to be turned around. Rita bit down on her quivering lip when he curled fingers around her chin tilted her face to and fro.

"Can you see this?" It was Schwann's voice this time, not Raven's. Why did he even bother with the facade?

"No!" she snarled angrily. There was a slight pause, then the sound of a match striking.

"How about this?"

"Are you dense? I said no!" Rita shouted. She could smell the sulphur though, and she was finally beginning to regain feeling in her cheeks. They were prickling with her humiliation. She hadn't wanted to see him at all. And if she _did _have to see him, she had wanted the ability to turn around and simply walk away if she needed to.

"Close your eyes."

"Oh, that'll work," Rita snarled at him angrily, but screwed her eyelids shut in any case. She embarrassed herself with a yelp when Schwann touched his fingertips to her lids.

"It hurts?"

"N-No! J-just, don't touch me!"

"Sure thing," was the infuriatingly calm response, then Schwann shifted his hands to her temples. When Rita didn't react to the mild pressure he put there, he moved them through her hair to grip various parts of her scalp. Or would have, if she hadn't have leapt back at the first invasive tickle and struck the bench-top awkwardly.

Rita wasn't entirely sure which was worse: pulling a central muscle in her lower back with her accidental acrobatics, or having to be caught by Schwann before she hit the floor.

"Well, it ain't a concussion," Raven mused drily right by her ear, and Rita decided that the latter was, by far, worse. She swung a fist and was satisfied when it connected with a meaty _thump_. By the sounds of it, she got him right in the kisser.

Good.

"Easy on my delicate features, honey, I'm tryin' ta _help!_" Raven whined.

"Then help me by keeping your filthy paws to yourself!" she shot back. She was rubbing her face furiously when the next thought occurred to her. "Estelle could fix this."

"Yeah, probably."

"I think I know what that blastia is anyway. Go get them, Old Man."

"Now that's _one_ of our problems," Raven replied casually. "Vesperia scattered for a reason, ya see, and we probably won't be seein' 'em for a few days yet."

"Reason?" Rita demanded. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The assassin tryin' ta kills us, or didn't ya notice that part?"

The alien glint deep in the starter node came to mind, and Rita gripped the front of her wrap-around in a tight fist. Raven must have seen the look on her face. She heard him shift on the spot before saying, "I didn't know it was genuine 'til the Dark Wings gave me the full report this mornin'. Almost didn't make it back in time, and there were close calls all 'round. But we all pulled through one way or another."

"Who would do this?" Rita managed.

"That's the _second _problem, darlin'. We don't know." He sounded more calm and distracted than she felt was right for the situation, and it made her angry. Rita wanted to hit him for being so complacent in the face of such danger. She couldn't see! How was she supposed to fight a backstabbing murderer?

How did she even fall for it when she _had _her eyesight?

"I was careless," Rita realised aloud. Somehow, as if admitting her own stupidity, it was all easier to swallow.

"Rita, darlin'," Raven managed, his voice full of rebuke, "expectin' assassins around every corner ain't clever, it's paranoid. And you're not blind yet. We just gotta get ourselves ta Heliord."

"That's your brilliant plan? Get to Heliord? I'd have trouble keeping _Raven the Great_ alive for the trip even _with _my eyes!"

"What're ya talkin' about?" Raven asked with a voice thick with accent and ego. "Ol' Raven is flying to Zaphias on the _Fiertia_."

"I- what?"

"They all boarded Ba'ul and flew outta the city before the smoke cleared, of course. Fortunately for all the poor saps involved, Cap'n Schwann had business with the Union Guards this week. He's a considerate guy. He'll probably help the guild authorities sort out this mess."

"But... that's..."

"The official story. In reality, we're all sneakin' out of Dahngrest on foot, and will rendezvous in Heliord. The idea is that we'll have met up and figured out our next move before our pal realises the _Fiertia _never landed in Zaphias."

"On foot? I'm blind!"

"I hear Cap'n Schwann is very dependable," Raven said.

"I heard he was a backstabbing bastard!" Rita snapped.

"Ouch."

"Wait, I've been here for hours! Any oaf could figure out I wasn't on board the _Fiertia _when it left!"

"That's why I'm here, darlin'! Cap'n Schwann will handle the decoy."

"Ugh, this plan sounds dumber by the second. But I can see it's the only one you've managed to cook up."

There was a soft chuckle.

"It's good ta see ya again," he said suddenly. "Well, figuratively speakin'... It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Not long enough!" Rita snapped, horrified.

"You're as mean as ever," was the pouty response. After a melodramatic sigh, Raven continued, "Well, as much as I'd like ta sit around commiseratin', we don't have much time on our hands. Some of us have a decoy ta build. Shall we?"

Rita jumped when her companion suddenly moved; metal clanked and cloth rustled as he stood, and she didn't react quickly enough when he made the two steps to reach her and suddenly placed two gauntleted hands on her waist.

In a dizzying rush, she was flung through the air and deposited firmly over a shoulder. Rita nearly broke her nose on his shoulder blade.

"Rita Mordio, you are under arrest for one count of breaking and entering, one count property damage in the first degree," - here Rita heard the workshop door being kicked open and the sounds of the street return – "and four counts of vandalism. By Guild law, sanctioned by the Knights of the New Order, you are to be incarcerated in a holding cell nominated by the Guild, the Crossed Crucibles, until you or your organisation are brought to trial and held accountable. Your guild leader will be informed. If your leader does not stand as guarantor in the face of the charges, then you will be brought before the Union for sentencing."

Rita's brain finally jumped into gear.

"A-Are you CRAZY?" she bellowed, struggling.

"If, in fact, you can meet the demands of the Crossed Crucibles in the first twenty four hours of accusation, all hitherto established debts between the guilds will be null and void."

"DON'T TOUCH ME YOU FILTHY OLD LETCH!"

She could hear the crowd's murmur of appreciation at the theatrics. Her face burned with rage and embarrassment.

"C-Captain Schwann!" a soldier gasped.

Rita thrashed pretty hard, and she knew she got some good kicks, punches and elbows in, but she couldn't quite slide herself free. Her fists were free to pound out her fury on his back, but her vicious attempts at kicking were eventually nipped in the bud by a firm hand against her knees.

She very seriously considered blowing them _both _up with a fireball.

"Sir! A-Allow me to detain the c-c-criminal!"

"No, allow me, I say! That looks much too dangerous, sir!"

"You'll _pay _for this!" Rita snarled.

"By Guild Law, it is _you _who will pay, young lady," Schwann replied coldly, not a single whisper of her lewd and laid-back friend left in his voice. That somehow made it alright for her to twist around just so that she could promise, "I'm going to burn you alive, you lecherous old bastard," into his ear.

All she got in reply was a small squeeze at the back of her knees. That just made her angrier.

Rita spent the rest of the trip still but simmering atop the good Captain's shoulder, plotting revenge and wishing only for her eyesight back so she could admire his funeral pyre in all its blazing glory.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Judith touched her temple, full of remorse.

**Sad? I will go to the place of humans that you call a capital. I will go indirectly, and that shall give you more time.**

_You are too kind to me, my dearest friend._

**This is a simple thing for me to do, **Ba'ul said, and he meant it. Her apology didn't make sense to him, and Judith didn't want to send him a clearer image of her loneliness and regret.

He didn't specifically understand his role as a decoy, but he did understand that his trip alone would be providing his friends with some degree of safety. Even now she knew he was crossing over Capua Torim on his way to Zaphias.

Through him, she felt the cold wind of an incoming storm, and his clarity of purpose and joy of flying was hers.

She missed him and their life together already.

_Be safe, dearest Ba'ul._

**And you, little sister.**

She left him then, and took a moment to realign herself.  
She had found the tallest tree in the bordering forest of Dahngrest to communicate with her friend, and the view from its highest branch was breath-taking. Judith admired it for a moment before she climbed down.

Tucked against the tree and looking quite comfortable (if a little bruised) was Karol. Repede had settled down next to the young man and he watched her make the final leap to the grass below and then turned aside haughtily. She wondered if he was feeling as lonely without Yuri as she was without Ba'ul.

She turned to the enormous figure crouched by her young guild master and tilted her head.

"Thank you for escorting us out of the city, that diversion was really very impressive," she said. Clint of the Hunting Blades cocked a suspicious eyebrow at her and scowled.

"It wasn't for you, girly," he all but growled at her. "The honour of the Hunting Blades means that we don't forget our debts."

"Captain Karol will be so grateful," she replied cheerfully. There was something very entertaining about watching grown men discuss debt and honour when they clearly meant their feelings. She wondered if she should tease him. Clint glared at her in a way that said he probably knew what she was thinking.

Possibly not, then.

"Don't tell the kid we helped," he said firmly, standing with a creak of leather.

"How will he know the debt has been repaid?" Judith wondered aloud.

"He didn't know there was one in the first place," was the sharp reply. Clint hefted his enormous sword and balanced it on one broad shoulder. He cleared his throat and gave her a look so piercing and full of authority that she resisted the urge to giggle.

"I don't like anarchy, and I don't like cowards," he said darkly. "Rest assured that whatever was done against Brave Vesperia today will have the Union's full attention when I get back to Dahngrest."

"Thank you," Judith said earnestly.

"Oh, and some of my underlings would appreciate news from your Guild Leader once you make it to wherever it is you're going. Just saying."

Clint moved away with the lumbering gait of an egg-bear, completely at ease in the forest and not looking back once. Judith smiled at his retreating back.

She spent a quiet afternoon sitting with Repede and doing not much at all. She considered using a gel once or twice, but decided against using up their limited supply. They had fled Dahngrest under the wing of the Hunting Blades with nothing more than the clothes of their back and whatever they'd had in their pockets.

The only direction they'd been given was from Clint, who had passed on the urgent message that Raven had sent to all five Guild Leaders within the Union.

Vesperia to Heliord.

"I guess it was as dangerous as you said," Judith mused to their absent companion.

Karol groaned expressively and stirred.

"Good morning, sleepy head," Judith greeted, smiling warmly at him.

"Hurts..." was all he managed. There was the barest of pauses before he suddenly shot upright in a rush of movement. "WAAH, I'M GONNA DIE-"  
The birds chirped and the sun dappled pleasantly through the leaves.

"W-Where are we?" Karol demanded, clutching his head.

"The forest outside of Dahngrest," she replied. "You took quite a fall back there. From the top of the Union HQ, in fact."

"F-From the top?" He shuddered violently. "I remember Repede knocking me off... Oh wait, how am I still alive?"

"I'm sorry, I had to get you down," Judith said.

"But how..?"

"Well, how else?" she asked. "I kicked you down."

There was a pregnant pause as Karol's expression ranged from disbelief to horror, to bemusement and then to outrage.

"Thanks a lot! You should have let me fall!" he snapped, and collapsed back to the grass. Repede heaved an exasperated breath.

"I thought I did quite well, considering," Judith mused. It had been quite the challenge, and if she was perfectly honest with herself, it had also been quite fun using her Dragoon skills for something other than violence. Trying to find places to kick and fling Karol to keep him airborne had been quite difficult considering she hadn't wanted to hurt him, and Repede had been crouched on his chest the entire journey to the ground. But she had managed to slow him down and bounce him off clotheslines and stall shades until she had spotted the fruit cart below.  
She might not tell him how that final guiding blow with the flat of her spear had been aimed at his head.

They had all hit the ground safely after all. That was the main thing.

"What happened, anyway," Karol mumbled into his gloves. He'd covered his face and she watched his fingers massage his hairline in small circles.

"That message that Raven was trying to deliver was about an assassination attempt against Vesperia," Judith said bluntly. She tapped her chin and glanced upwards out of habit. Ba'ul was nowhere to be seen. He was probably already over the ocean by now.

"Y-You're kidding right?"

"Why do you say that? It makes quite a bit of sense when you think about it. Our air-dock and headquarters were blown up, after all."

"No way!"

"It's alright, I don't _think _anyone was harmed."

"B-But what do we do now?" Karol stuttered, curling his hands into fists and drawing them tight to his sides. Judith stared at him.

"Hmm." She folded her legs neatly beneath her and stacked her hands on her knees. "There wasn't much time to organise a plan of action," she confessed. "I believe we're expected to make our way to Heliord secretly and meet up with the others."

"We... were so close to all being together again," Karol said softly, and the expression on his face broke her heart.

"Our reunion has been delayed by a few days at most," she reassured him.

"Yeah, I guess," he replied. He nodded and pulled himself to his feet. There was a worrying moment where the young guild master wavered on his feet, but he held on to the tree until his dizziness passed and shouldered his bag.

Judith stood and dusted herself off. She looked up to find Karol staring at her guiltily.

"Um," he said.

"Yes?"

"You and... You and Repede saved me back there," Karol managed, scratching the back of his head. "Thanks."

Repede snorted and trotted away. Cool and aloof till the very last. Judith smiled happily and tilted her head.

"You're welcome, Karol," she replied. "Shall we?"

"Right! Brave Vesperia fall out!"

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: So the chapter wasn't released _much_ sooner, but I've written more in advance. Hurrah!  
We say a goodbye to Judy, Karol and Repede for now. We've romances to build. This is important stuff, says I.**


	5. Boundaries

**5: Boundaries**

.  
_oOo_  
.

The Union cells were dark as sin. The only windows into the tall chamber were facing west, and it would be some hours before the sun could creep in to warm up the cold, grey stone. Schwann could just make her out in the gloom; like a small ember of warmth in a dead fireplace, Rita had backed up against the corner of her bunk and was sitting with both her legs and arms crossed angrily.

She was glaring sightlessly into nothing.

"I wouldn't have believed it, but here we are," Kaufman said shrewdly, eyes dancing greedily. Schwann made a conscious effort not to wince. He spent most of his life dancing to someone else's tune, and he got the distinct impression that Kaufman was winding up a waltz of her own.

"Despite this," he began, sweeping a hand over his uniform, "neither the Council nor the Knights owe you anything. This is strictly on Vesperia's tab." She smiled wider.

"Of course. You know, I like a man with a bit of creativity. W_hich_ name do I put on the bill, again?"

She was baiting him, and Schwann heaved a sigh.

"Vesperia," he said firmly. She laughed good naturedly, looking quite pretty for a moment.

"Don't worry Captain, your secret is safe with me. It's in the Union's interest, after all."

He didn't find himself particularly reassured.

"So just to make myself clear, the repairs on the guild front and dock are going to be included with the damage bill from the Crossed Crucibles and the Union warehouse. I managed to secure your means of travel to Heliord and that is waiting for you down in the stables. I can bundle that in with the rest. You'll be paying enough by the end of the day, consider it on the house."

Poor Karol.

"I thank you," Schwann said formally, bowing at the waist with his hand on his short-sword. Kaufman appeared stunned by the gesture. Her vermillion eyes darted from his head to his feet and then back again, almost too quick to see.

"You know better than anyone that the Union does what it can for Brave Vesperia," she said slowly, distractedly. "...But you know that I am sticking my neck out for you right now. Really far, I might add."

"There is no threat to Fortune's Market."

"Not yet, at least. I'm just putting it out there, Captain. I think you owe me one after today. At some stage I might just call upon that favour. You might enjoy it more than you expect."

Her look became salacious. Schwann froze.

He knew damn well how Raven would react to her suggestive smile, and it took more willpower than he was willing to admit not to just smirk, slip an arm over her lovely shoulders and to lay it on thick. On the other hand, a Captain of the Imperial Knights didn't take such propositions lightly and he had spent years cultivating a reputation of cold and unapproachable disdain specifically to avoid situations such as these.  
Kaufman didn't know that. It was just a uniform.

His eyes flickered to Rita. And then there was that.

There _was_ no response, so he stared at the shrewd woman blankly. She chuckled at the lack of reaction.

"We can discuss repayment when you're more disposed," she suggested, and her hand ghosted his arm as she passed by him and out the door. He heaved a sigh of relief when it closed after her.  
Over in her cell, Rita was grimacing as if she'd just eaten something horribly sour.

Raven unlocked the door and let it swing open with a _creak_.

"That was just pathetic, Old Man," she said haughtily, sliding cautiously off the bunk. "That's the closest you've ever come to getting lucky, and you choked. What, you scared of dirtying up the honoured uniform of the Imperial Stooges?"

"Somethin' like that," he replied, and couldn't help but smile. She sure did have a way with words.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it. Knowing your brigade, they'd probably be _proud _you crashed and burned. Setting a fine example, right?"

She looked entirely too pleased with herself. Brushing the unfamiliar length of hair out of his eyes, Raven found himself smirking.

"No real loss," he sighed. "I didn't hear an expiry date in there. There's plenty of time for_ repayin' debts_ once this whole fiasco is done 'n' dusted," here he added extra drawl, "if ya know what I mean."

Rita looked so scandalised for half a moment that he thought she'd explode. Instead, the sour expression came back full force. She folded her arms and glared ferociously at nothing. There was safety in her blindness; Raven grinned hugely in the very same way that would normally have gotten him killed.  
He rapped his metal-plated knuckles against the cell bars.

"Ya gonna sit there sulkin' all day, or are we gonna hit the road?"

"Geez, you're such a pain," she muttered.

Watching Rita blindly grope her way along the wall was weirdly heartbreaking. Raven couldn't stop himself from reaching out and gently taking her questing hand when she'd almost reached the bars. She snatched it away and scowled furiously.

He sighed. It was going to be a long trip.

"This would go alot quicker if ya let me lead you out," he said bluntly when she hesitated by the door. Rita ran a hand through her hair in frustration and her mouth twisted oddly.

"Can you do it without touching me?"

"Honey, I'm hurt!"

"Like I care! Can you?"

This was just ridiculous.

"How do ya suggest I do that?" he demanded. "No, wait, don't answer that, darlin'." He paused for a moment, deep in thought. An idea occurred.  
He peered down at the young woman currently tapping her foot impatiently.

"Maybe there is a way. How do ya feel about _you _touching _me_?" he asked. Her expression made him replay the suggestion in his head.

Well damn. Think before you open your damn trap, Raven.

Rita took a swing and he ducked, just in time.

"Wait, wait, wait," he babbled, backing up a step as she righted herself and pulled her arm back for a second attempt.

"I _can't _believe I'm stuck with such a _perverted _old CREEP," she shouted, frozen in position.

"Rita, darlin'-" he began, then yelped when she swung at his voice. He caught her fist. "Just hear me out, alright? This uniform of Schwann's ain't just for show!" Her face twisted with outraged confusion. "Let's just say I've got a cloak not useful for anythin' other than leadin' around blind girls, right? No harm done. Or is holdin' on ta it a scandalous adventure in debauchery?"

Understanding flooded her face, and then suspicion clouded it immediately after.

There was a tense moment when he took her fist and then set it on his shoulder. When he turned and straightened, Rita's hand slipped a little down his back and latched on to the half cloak that dangled from his right shoulder-guard. There was a small pause before she gave it an experimental tug.

"Great, it's like trailing after a mule," she said sarcastically.

"Or leadin' one," he muttered in reply. She kicked him in the back of the knee.

The stables were not so far away, all things considered. They were actually attached to the rear end of the Union HQ, only a handful of corridors and minor staircases away. Despite this, Raven took his time getting there: he lingered in every doorway of the guild's epicentre, paused by every junction to make sure the coast was clear.

Captain Schwann would have pushed and shoved a criminal on before him. He would not, in fact, have been dragging one along like an irate comet-tail.

Despite her volatile personality, Rita managed to keep her mood to herself like a little self-contained black thundercloud. That suited him just fine, and he was almost feeling better about the prospect of being stuck in her company for the next few days by the time they'd made it to the stables.

And then the stable hand passed him the saddlebag, left the pen door open and simply walked away from the really big problem within. He felt Rita tug impatiently at his cloak.

"Ugh, it reeks like a pigsty," she complained.

"Close enough," he replied. The quietta was quite a bit larger than average and it tossed its head nervously, tiny hooves punching through the hay strewn across the stable floor to clack against the cobbles below. It danced a little in its pen, snuffled, and then rolled one mad eye in his direction to size him up.

Raven had spent five years in the cavalry before the Great War. Sure, he'd been the clumsiest in his brigade - due mostly to the animals swinging randomly between hating him and then loving him to distraction - but he could at least claim to ride. Once he'd made captain, he'd been expected to by policy. It certainly wasn't the quietta itself that made him nervous, and it wasn't the size of it.

It wasn't even that the creature was clearly an angry, unstable thing.

He was suddenly nervous because it was a huge, angry quietta with only one saddle that was going to have to fit two.

"So, Rita," Raven managed, grinning madly at how vindictive Lady Fate could be. "This No-Touchin' rule of yours. Any room for... negotiation?"

"There's only one mount, isn't there?"

"'Fraid so."

"I-I'll sit on the back end then. There is a back end, right?"

Oh boy.

"Ever ridden a quietta before, kiddo?"

"I've read about it."

Oh joy.

There really was no helping it. He was officially cursed.

"Tell ya what. When we get ta Heliord, you can murder me in whatever excruciatin' way you can dream up. But before then, just... let me try and keep us _both_ on the damn thing any way I can, alright?" He took her outraged silence as a binding agreement, and pulled her towards the snorting beast with a roll of his shoulder. It clattered back nervously; Rita hissed at the sudden shift in front of her and retreated as well.

"Don't worry, I'll help ya up first... but promise me no sudden movements," he ordered quietly. The large animal was feeding off her nerves and getting twitchier. Rita nodded curtly. It wasn't as hard as he expected to hoist her up there; she was light as a feather and after a small amount of confusion when she tried to swing the wrong leg over, it was very easy to get her seated. She was so light that the beast didn't even notice her.

Raven took her hands and placed them on the jug handle at the front of the saddle.

"Hang on tight ta that," he told her.

Raven took a breath and ran a hand up the thick mane of the quietta's neck, patting its throat once or twice before he sought out its reigns. He pulled them down firmly and gave the twitchy beast a look directly in its eye.

It snorted and tugged back.

"No funny business," he begged it.

Raven swung himself up into the saddle as awkwardly as he remembered. The quietta noticed; it danced unhappily under the swinging and unexpected weight, tugged angrily at its bit and whinnied its displeasure. Raven was so worried the damn thing was about to bolt that he didn't notice Rita going stiff as a board against his chest when he settled in behind her.

She scooted forward with a jerk.

"You're gonna fall off," he warned her as she all but huddled over the front of the saddle. The quietta dipped sideways nervously. Rita obviously hadn't heard him, so he put an arm around her middle and drew her back before their unsteady stead threw her off.

She slammed an elbow right into his gut.

"PERVERT!" Rita shrieked. The quietta jerked, startled, and then several things happened at once.

The creature surged forward in a furious clatter of limbs, dropping its head and nearly tearing the reigns from Raven's hand. In the same moment, Rita flew back against him and her head collided with his jaw with a jarring _clack_ that made every tooth hum. Raven thought they were going to be thrown free.

It was entirely due to luck that they didn't get tossed to the ground in that first furious handful of seconds, and after the luck had run out, it was a slightly vindictive jerk at the reigns that ended up saving the situation. The quietta turned a half circle with its chin tucked to its throat, then settled down almost immediately once Raven gave it a cautious amount of slack. The creature stumbled unevenly out of the stables and toward the city exit.

There was a tense silence full of unspoken accusation on both parts.

"Ya wanna try that No Sudden Movement thing again?" Raven managed bitterly, rubbing his jaw. Rita didn't reply. Her knuckles were white on the saddle. Meanwhile, his chin was hurting so bad that he had to inspect his fingers after touching it. No blood, just a lingering buzz in his ear and the sudden desire to be anywhere but where he was _right now_. No amount of lovely young lady in his lap was going to salvage this day.

In fact, it was because there _was _that particular lovely young lady in his lap that made this all so goddamn horrible.

"It's gonna be a long trip," Raven lamented expressively.

"No offense, Old Man," Rita began in a thick voice that intended every offense, "but I wish that starter node had have just killed me."

"That cut me deep, Rita-darlin'," he replied melodramatically, but his heart wasn't in it.

So the very idea of the next couple of days filled her with misery, did it? Raven ran one of Schwann's gauntlets over his face and grimaced, thankful that no one could see the expression.

The feeling was entirely mutual.

Fate was a cruel and vindictive Mistress, he decided then, and she knew just which of the many knives in his back to twist.

.  
_oOo_  
.

The noon sun was so strong against the cured leather above Estelle that the entire inside of the caravan had been washed umber. Estelle marvelled at how it made her skin look healthy and tanned. Well... the skin that wasn't weeping and red.

She winced when Karen smoothed out a poultice on one of her burns.

"You've been through so much," the innkeeper said gently. "Are you sure you don't want something for the pain?"

"It doesn't hurt that much, really," Estelle replied. She was kneeling beside a crate full of supplies and the world's smallest clothes line, strung up between the curved frame of the caravan's cuddy. Her own half-decimated dress was folded neatly before her and she stared at it with a small pang on loss. She had liked that dress.

Estelle shivered. Currently stripped down to her underwear, she was keeping herself useful by holding the jars of balm, rolls of bandage and squares of poultice out for her host. Karen hummed to herself and leant around her to scoop some smelly green goo from one of the jars.

Estelle peered at her skin critically. She wasn't in a habit of dealing with injury in the natural and old-fashioned way, so the red burns disturbed her almost as much as the mess of cuts and bruises all the way down her left leg. Mending them appeared to be hugely time-consuming.

Her arm had been broken at some point during the explosion. Estelle had healed it the moment she had regained consciousness, but a gutting headache had thundered in immediately after that. She had limped and shuffled all the way to King of Adventure, trying constantly to focus her artes and failing time and time again.

The ache lingered behind her eyes still, but every second in the silent and warm caravan chased more of it away.

Karen began unrolling the bandages.

"Honestly, I'll be able to heal myself in a little while," Estelle insisted for what felt like the hundredth time.

"It doesn't hurt to tend to these now. It'll at least make it easier for you to move," Karen replied promptly.

A silhouette moved against the taunt leather.

"She's not giving you any trouble, is she?" a voice asked pointedly.

And then there was _that_.

"Yuri!" Estelle scolded.

"She's the perfect patient," Karen replied cheerfully. "We'll be done soon, you can stop pacing."

"Y-You don't have to wait _right outside_," Estelle pleaded.

"There isn't much daylight left," Yuri observed, ignoring her thoroughly. "I'd still like to put some miles between us and Dahngrest at some point."

"You don't rush these things!" said Karen. Despite this, she wound the length of gauze around Estelle's leg in such an uneven tangle that it made the princess wonder just how she was going to peel it off later on.

"Take your time," Yuri said magnanimously. His silhouette shifted. "You guys must know these ranges like the back of your hand. Any short-cuts I should know about?"

"Hmph. I know a few," Rich replied. Apparently he'd decided to wander over for a chat as well.

"Hopefully one that can shave a day or so off the trip to Heliord."

"There is a hunting track that cuts over one of the plateaus. It'll keep you hidden, at least," Rich said.

"You're kidding!" Karen laughed. "That isn't a track, it's a gap between the trees!"

"Sounds good to me," Yuri said firmly.

"I don't think we need to _rush_..." Estelle attempted, fruitlessly trying to cover herself despite the privacy of the caravan. As much as she loved travelling, she knew she'd miss Karol and his over-sized bag full of tents and supplies. She didn't know how well she'd do sleeping on leaves and climbing mountains.

"I find that a little hard to believe coming from a girl who nearly died this morning," Yuri pointed out, and there was a sharp edge to his voice. Once again, Estelle had the distinct feeling that he was angry with her.

"But she _didn't_," Karen announced happily. She gave Estelle a cheerful pat on the knee and passed her a bundle of clothes. They were simpler and more well-worn than she was used to, but Estelle took them gratefully and carefully unfolded them.

Outside, Rich and Yuri began to talk about the events of Dahngrest in such a serious and melodramatic way that eventually Karen laughed and left the caravan to join them. Her voice, full of amusement and rebuke, lightened the mood immediately.

Estelle let them talk it out. As she struggled gently into the chocolate coloured dress, easing every itchy inch of herself through various arm holes and waist bands and chemises, she wondered instead about her friends.

In some ways, she was very lucky that Yuri had come back for her. If LeBlanc had have rescued her instead, she simply would have been separated from the rest of her friends and been forced to make the journey to Heliord on her own. Estelle doubted she'd have done very well. She often wished that she was as independent as Rita. And of course she wished she that she was as competent as Judith, as determined as Karol, or as dogged as... well, Repede. Sometimes she even wished she was as savvy as Raven pretended not to be.

She especially wanted to be as daring as Yuri... but the truth of the matter was that she wasn't, and every day Estelle was reminded that she _needed_ her friends probably more than they needed her.

And despite that... Despite the envy, it didn't stop her from worrying.

Most of all, she worried about Rita.

Their fiery friend had been in the artisan's circle all by herself. LeBlanc had been very clear about the fact that all of Vesperia were being targeted by the assassins. Rita may have escaped the two explosions, but that didn't mean she had been forgotten or overlooked. And she was still very much alone.

Estelle was worried to distraction.

She transferred the contents of her pink dress' pockets to her new one and stared briefly at her mysterious letters before slipping them away.

She should probably tell Yuri.

"Okay, I'm ready," she called, tugging a pair of the soft leather boots that Karen had put aside. Without the heels she was normally accustomed to, Estelle felt flat-footed and awkward when she stepped out of the wagon. The others were waiting for her.

"All set?" Yuri asked, arms folded. Was he mad? He certainly wasn't smiling.

"I'm feeling so much better already," Estelle offered despite his lack of asking. To Karen, she bowed courteously. "Thank you so much for all of your kindness."

"Don't mention it."

"And you, Rich! Thank you."

"Hmph."

"Okay! On to Heliord, right Yuri?" Estelle asked, falling in to step beside him. He watched her with those cool eyes for half a moment for bringing something up from his side and placing it on her head.

The woollen cap was slightly oversized and tickled at her ears and cheeks. Estelle hesitantly touched the brim. Yuri examined her critically, pulled an unconvinced face and then began tucking her hair gently under the woollen edges of the hat. His hands didn't drop away until every last strand of pink had disappeared into the course brown wool.

"There. _Now_ we're ready," said he.

"I hardly recognise you!" Karen chirped, all smiles.

"I... Um, thank you?" Estelle managed.

"It's not much of a disguise," Yuri admitted, "but you don't look like a princess, and that's the main thing. How's your headache, by the way?"

Estelle was blushing, she realised. She latched her fingers and thumbs around the hem of her woollen cap and pulled it down further. To the scratchy darkness, she said,

"B-Better, thank you."

"Good. Well, thanks for the help guys, we'll have payment for you when we hit Heliord."

"No rush," Karen replied pleasantly.

"Safe trip," was all Rich offered.

Yuri tipped a mock salute and began striding away. Giving one more grateful bow before she left, Estelle jogged to catch up, already breathless and more than a little anxious.

Yes, she knew that she needed her friends in situations like these for support and guidance, but she had really come to fear just how much she relied on Yuri.

He was always one step ahead of her no matter what it was that they were doing, capable and nonchalant and magnetic. Even the decisions she had struggled to make were a gift.  
He had coaxed the confidence to make them from her patiently, guiding her every step of the way and Estelle knew that even now, the best she had to offer the world already belonged to him.

Yuri was her crutch. He was her weakness and her strength, all in one. She would rely on him until the day he suddenly saw it fit to leave her, and Estelle dreaded the very thought of it. There was no way of telling just when he would lose interest and move on. If Yuri was a book, he would be a closed one in an attractive but non-descript cover.

What would she be without him?

One thing for certain was that he would take parts of her with him. Important parts, like her courage, her confidence, her joy and her contentment. There wouldn't be much left in her heart after that. Yuri had come to own so much of it without her even realising.

Yes, Estelle relied on her dear friend. He simply made it too easy to do.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: That was probably more fun that it should have been. Torturing Raven is a dangerously addictive passtime.  
****Next chapter is all Yuri and Estelle, which should be interesting. Also, thank you again for the kind reviews, they are like nuggets of pure, distilled motivation!**


	6. A New Me

**6: A New Me**

.  
_oOo_  
.

There were times when Estelle thought Yuri was simply too pretty to be real.

She wondered if he'd have been insulted to be called such a thing. She didn't see how; Estelle'd have given anything to have been called pretty with the same amount of awe that she held for him. Naturally she had been called beautiful and stunning and captivating before… but it had always been a prefix to her rank. A standard aside for the Princess who might favour the man who slathered on the compliments thick.  
Estelle never paid them much mind. She had yet to be called pretty by someone not wanting something from her, and that was what truly mattered.

Yuri, though. There were times when Estelle thought Yuri was too pretty to be real, and now was definitely one of those times.

"Ow," he said. He tugged free his hand with a smattering of rock and gave it a quick waggle.

Estelle didn't think she'd _ever _been this close to him before. They were laid out across the uneven ground like ragdolls, she in a boneless sprawl and he in a protective crouch over her.

This close up, she could see every inch of his finely-featured face in shocking detail. Even his lashes were thick, and she knew for a fact that women in the Zaphias court paid exorbitant amounts of money on creams to keep their skin as clear and smooth as his.

Maybe he stole the prettiness from someone else?

Maybe she had concussed herself after that fall.

Estelle was so distracted by the unfairly beautiful man above her that she almost forgot to check herself for injury. It had been a lengthy tumble down the cliff face. Who knew what sort of things got broken? She tilted her head to try and peer down the length of her own body, then gave up when she realised that Yuri wasn't moving until the last of the mini landslide had done its worst.  
There was only so much she could see when she was flat on her back.

Not to be made _completely _useless, she wiggled her toes and fingers, checking for sprains. There were none. That left her with nothing but the limited and embarrassing view.

That his hair was still so beautifully long and silky after a rough tumble down a steep rocky incline was an insult. Estelle's only saving grace was that her cap was still firmly on her head.

She watched as the very last of the rocks and pebbles clattered down the incline and over Yuri's back. They threw up grit with every bounce. Finally the uneven slide of earth came to a halt around them; finally the dust stopped swirling and began to settle in a gauzy haze.

"You hurt?" he asked her with a croak, a frown drawn tight between his neat and shapely brows.

"I'm sorry. I fell," was all Estelle could think to say.

Her day couldn't have gotten much worse.

Yuri lifted himself off her, shedding more stone and dirt than Estelle thought possible. There was the barest tint of pink on his cheeks, and even that high point of colour looked good.

"No big deal," he managed, still frowning. He straightened his tunic with a rough and angry tug and added, "I've always wanted to get down a cliff that way."

Estelle winced at the sarcasm. From where she lay, all she could see was his frustrated profile against the hazy and jumbled mess of the cliff face, the slither of the upper forest that she had strode out from to fall down said cliff face, and the bold cut-out of the sky like a shard of pure peach against the green.  
It was nearing sunset already.

They had cascaded to a halt in the first true open space since they left Dahngrest; the clearing was a half-moon of dirt, cold bedrock and a smattering of tall grasses before the forests of the lower plateau picked up where the upper ones had left off.

Yuri dusted himself off methodically, stretched out whatever kinks remained and began walking slowly and carefully around the newly disturbed rock-pile, kicking aside the larger stones and plucking their things from the wreckage. His sword was pried out from under a boulder, their duffel bag was dug out of the messy pile loose dirt. The open package of food they had been half-eating before the drop had swallowed them up and spat them out down below was lying face down in the dust.

The dirt had ruined most everything wrapped in the brown paper. Yuri plucked the few remaining dry wafers free and dusted them off with a resigned sigh.

Estelle mimicked the expression with extra resignation.

In the space of one day, she had managed to fall down, fall into, trip over, knock over and disturb every possibly pit-fall the forest had to offer. It was like she was magnetised to disaster. Prettiness aside, it was almost unfair how effortlessly Yuri not only avoided all catastrophe, but had enough poise left over to save her from it as well.

"Lunch?" he offered suddenly, an indigo blot against the warm hues of the sky. Estelle sat up to find him holding a dry biscuit out for her.

She took it wordlessly, flicked the last of the dirt from it and bit down on it without complaint.

It was so dry and tasteless her mouth went gummy in protest.

They found an old boulder to rest against and ate their meagre rations in silence. She had been intending on sharing her mysterious letters, but somehow the thought of dropping another of her problems in his lap was a shameful thing. She thickly swallowed the last of her biscuit and grimaced.

No, she should probably keep them to herself.

"I'm sorry Yuri," Estelle sighed, folding her hands up on her lap.

"Hey, I said don't worry about it," Yuri said distractedly, tearing up his biscuit into vengeful and tiny pieces. He wasn't eating it. Estelle tried to squint at him in a bid to see if he was, in fact, angry with her but it was too hard to tell. There was definitely no small amount of frustration and anger etched across his features, but unfortunately Yuri was simply getting harder to read. Who knew who, what or where the emotion was directed at?

He'd been distant since she'd awoken from the explosion. To some degree Estelle had come to understand his silences and the varying degrees of his casual disinterest; every charming, cavalier comment or smile meant something different, and she had been building a library of reference in her head. She had genuinely come to pride herself on being a particularly good translator.

The events in Dahngrest had made him too distant and apathetic for even her powers of intuition.

Estelle glanced around at the small slither of space between the two crushing and inhospitable forests. She wondered for a moment if he had chosen to cut through the woods as punishment for how clumsy and useless she was. The thought was too awful to contemplate; Estelle dismissed the notion.

Time to think of other things, before she got herself upset.

The view was limited and didn't offer many distractions; the rocky incline was steep, tall and an embarrassing memory. On the other side, the forest was as horrifically like the one above that Estelle shuddered to think of all the disaster she was going to attract again.

That left the sunset.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, eyes wide.

"What's wrong?" He said it quickly and starkly, already looking around for whatever trouble she might have attracted. That hurt a little, but Estelle persevered stubbornly.

"Look at Brave Vesperia!" she clarified, pointing up into the peach sky. Despite the hazy time of day, the First Star blazed strong against the purples and roses and yellows, winking proudly at them. Estelle had never seen it in the sky so early in the evening before. She couldn't tell because of the colours around it, but she fancied that the star glittered red around the edges.

It could have been ominous. In her current mood, all she could feel was inspired.

"It's looking bigger than usual," Yuri murmured, shielding his eyes from the sinking sun.

"Yes," Estelle replied, smiling despite herself, "telling us to be strong in the face of adversity and conflict."  
And it did look bigger. The star glittered like a speck of ruby in the velvety sky, a solid core of brilliance in the hazy dusk. Yuri cocked a satirical eyebrow.

"If you say so," he replied.

Estelle believed it even if he didn't. She had always been inspired by that particular star, and one piece of superstition rose from the fog of her memory to greet the spectacular view.

"They say," Estelle murmured softly, "that if you see Brave Vesperia before the sun sets, it will grant you a wish… if it that wish is straight from the heart." Tonight, with the star looking so huge and mighty amongst the lingering clouds, it felt magical enough to be true.

Estelle clasped her hands together, closed her eyes and wished. It wasn't hard to think of one.

Her first wish, of course, was for courage_._ She wanted courage of her very own, a bravery with no strings attached. At the very least, just enough to change what needed changing.

Almost unsatisfied, Estelle bit her lip and thought harder. Her second wish was a long time in coming, the thought being so shy that it struggled to be seen past her shame. She wanted, quite selfishly, to take back all of the mistakes of the past and to start afresh.

Two wishes were unfair. Estelle wondered which of them she should choose. It occurred to her, as she clasped her hands tightly together, then she needn't choose at all.

Estelle took them both, bundled them together into the one heart-felt package and then sent it up to the First Star.

… _I wish… for_ _a new me._

Estelle shivered suddenly and when she opened her eyes, Vesperia looked even bigger and bolder than ever. It was as much of a sign as she could hope for. She could only smile.

Yuri was watching her. He glanced aside when she caught his eye.

"All done," she said, clenching a fist. "That was just what I needed!"

"You sure got energetic quick," her companion said with the first half-smile he had managed all day. The sight of it gave her hope as well. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course! I say we get to Heliord tonight. No dallying! What's a forest to us, right Yuri?" He seemed amused at her sudden fervour. She didn't see the amused smile drop into a look of shocked disbelief when she surged to her feet.

The mind was willing, but her beaten and exhausted body was weak, weak, weak. Estelle's knees gave a sad little wobble and she had to hide the tremor by bending forward slightly to dust down the front of her grubby skirts. She followed the gesture by straightening and placing both hands on her hips. The casual and aloof stance was a convenient one. It allowed her to secretly cradle the stitch that had just suddenly flared up in her side.

Estelle beamed brightly down at Yuri when he peered up at her suspiciously. She thought it had been a convincing one, but her companion tilted his head gently and frowned.

"We can rest if you want," he offered slowly, voice careful.

"No no, I'm fine! We've made excellent progress already, right? I mean, even if it meant falling down a… Never mind that, we're ahead of schedule! That's a good thing!" she replied, holding aloft a palm for the sign of victory. Yuri slowly rose to his feet, sighed, then reached out and took her hand.  
He lowered and held it carefully between them, watching calmly and quietly until she followed his gaze; her hand trembled and quivered as if she were an old woman on the verge of panic.

He replaced her hand to her side, and then rapped her on the head lightly with his own.  
It wasn't an angry gesture, but he couldn't have felt more like an exasperated baby-sitter if he tried.

"Come on Estelle, if you're so tired you're shaking then just tell me. We can afford to take a breather," he rebuked.

Estelle clenched both fists, unconvinced.

"I'm alright, honestly! Everything… Everything will be fine once we get to Heliord, right? The sooner the better!"

Yuri looked like he was going to protest, so Estelle swept past him hurriedly before he could.

"W-Wait, Estelle!" he called out after her, but it was the voice he used for the _old _Estelle. The sound of it was one of her dreaded crutches. At some point or another, she was going to have to let go of that concern.

Yuri didn't catch up until she was already shoving the first of the branches aside. He had his sword and the duffel tucked under his arm in his rush, so he had to use his off-hand to reach past her and catch the tree-limb before it could snap back. It was almost a rescue even if it was only a branch, so Estelle picked up her pace.

If she was quick enough, there might not be enough time for him to swoop in and make everything right. She tried to put him out of her mind and focused on navigating the uneven terrain.

After the scratchy crush of the thicket came a felled tree, and after that there was a shallow but restless stream. Estelle had barely gotten her soles dry when the ground rose sharply in a jagged split-level. Yuri stared at it only briefly before gripping an exposed tree root and hoisting himself up. Estelle watched him ascend jealously.

No matter, she could do that too.

She had barely managed to lift herself a foot from the ground before her arms gave out and she dropped down into the dirt again. She bit her lip, determined.

"Estelle." From the grassy overhang, Yuri leant down and stretched his free hand out for her expectantly. She hesitated before taking it. As always, the look on his face was irresistible; she all but squeaked when he gripped her hand roughly and tugged her up with more force than she thought entirely necessary.

No matter how New Estelle looked at it, it was another rescue.

She pressed on through the forest, determined to make up for the false start. They had been trekking through the uneven terrain for a good half an hour before she was able to do so.

"Look, Yuri!"

He followed the line of her finger to the gap winding away into the forest. His eyes narrowed, unconvinced.

"Rich didn't mention a track down on the second plateau," he muttered, using his sword to push aside a dense thicket. Estelle moved on ahead of him, tugging her dress free of every twig and bramble that caught on it along the way.

"Maybe Rich would have found it because there isn't enough room for a caravan here..?" she mumbled. Even so, it was a _very _small… No, new Estelle was optimistic. "It must be a hunting trail. That must mean we're getting closer to Heliord!" she decided, and she strode towards the trail.

"Estelle!"  
She turned around mid-step to find him dashing forwards. He had one arm out to grab her when her foot fell to the turf.

The ground erupted into grass and dirt and leaves and, so unexpected she almost didn't understand, rope. The vision was lost when Yuri's arms fenced in her view and then suddenly the world heaved as the trap snapped taught and hauled them into the air.

Estelle's face collided with his chest. Their legs bunched and tangled for an uncomfortable moment before both sets of limbs slipped through the wide weave of the net and dangled over the ground. The rope creaked. The net bounced and swayed under the tree it had been rigged to.

Estelle tried to push herself away from Yuri but the net pushed back.

"Come'on, come'on, come'on," Yuri muttered desperately, fumbling. His sword bounced and twisted between his hands like a baton before it finally slipped free and fell to the grass below. They stared at it. It was so out of reach it hurt to look at.

"You've got to be kidding me," Yuri said blankly.

"I think I can get it," Estelle babbled. It was hopeless from the get go, but it wasn't until she had pulled a muscle in her side, hit her head against Yuri's knee and elbowed him in the stomach that she realised that the net wasn't going to get any lower no matter how she struggled.

She wriggled back into the only comfortable position available. They rotated with the sway of the trap like two dancers on the most crowded ballroom floor in history.

Estelle bit down on her quivering lower lip.

"Wait, I'm gonna go check the mechanism…" Yuri muttered, more to himself than her. In a sudden rush of motion, he gripped the rope and hauled himself upwards. The tree bough groaned in protest as he got a hand above the knotted ends of the net and pulled himself up the main line, arm over arm. He was halfway up when he came to a surprised halt.

There was a lingering silence punctuated only by the creaking of the net.

Whatever Yuri saw satisfied him; he returned down into the net with a look of patient intent.

"Well at least we won't be waiting long," he said darkly. Estelle shifted awkwardly against him. The landslide had been closer than she was comfortable with; this was enough to shut her brain down in mortification.

"Um…"

"Above the trees. A flag signal was rigged to go up when the trap went off," Yuri explained, using a finger to casually rub some sleep from the corner of his eye. He had no call being so cavalier when strung up like a common monster, but he managed it.

Estelle covered her face, flustered and miserable. Yuri continued as if she was actually contributing to the conversation, eyes cold and hard despite the casual disinterest he'd painted over his fine features.

"So whoever set the trap wanted to know about it the minute it was sprung. My guess is that they'll be here soon enough. Don't know about you… But I can't wait to meet 'em."

"And they'll let us down?" Estelle mumbled into her palms hopefully. From between her fingers, she saw something frightening flash over her friend's face.

"Sure, why not," he replied thickly, voice low.

And there was the anger again, a cold undercurrent rushing through his eyes like a hidden wildfire. Whether or not that anger was directed at her or elsewhere was not something she was brave enough to investigate, no matter how brave New Estelle fancied herself.

Considering she had gotten them into this mess, he had every right to be angry.

Estelle pressed her face into her hands hard, the pressure on her eyeballs deadening the prickling heat.

It took a while for the burning tears to retreat even though they had never truly begun, and it wasn't until a little after that when Yuri finally noticed her strained silence. She jumped when he brought his hand up to rest between her shoulder blades.

"Hey… You still with me?"

He sounded so concerned.

"I-I did it again!" she wailed, surprising both of them and making the net sway.

"Did what now?"

"Constantly making you- making my friends look after me! I can't even walk through a forest properly!"

"Estelle-"

"I didn't mean to be such a burden, honestly I didn't," - she paused to swallow thickly, taking her hands away and gripping the net– "but you're always helping me out anyway... I don't blame you for being angry with me."

She could have knocked him over with a feather, he looked so stunned. A brief flash of guilt replaced the shock, and it took him sometime to wrest the expression from his face.

"You're so sure of that, huh?" he eventually asked with a small smile. She dropped her eyes, embarrassed. The thick rope in each of her hands was hard and uncomfortable to grip, but her knuckles stood out white anyway. Like an exercise in symmetry, he held another part of the weave in much the same fashion, though without the vice grip.

Even in that simple touch, his calm and poise made a mockery out of her desperate cling.

"I-I was so sure that..." Estelle mumbled.

The net creaked in the breeze. She stared at the dip in his collarbone just so that she could avoid his eyes.

"Truth be told, I'm probably the one who should be saying sorry, Estelle," Yuri sighed, and he tipped his head very gently in her direction. His long ebony hair swung close to her cheeks and she paused, caught and caged in by his presence.

Yuri didn't move, and eventually Estelle had the courage to look up into his face. He was so close she felt his breath on her face.

"If this was any other time, we would have taken the main roads. It's just... Well, there's been a lot to worry about, and I didn't want..." Here he struggled visibly, frustration replacing whatever alien hint of warmth he had given her. "I just wish I could get whoever's doing this face-to-face, you know?"

His hand was still a broad expanse of gentle pressure against her upper back. It was so distracting that Estelle was having trouble stringing full thoughts together, let alone verbalising them. She must have looked like a fool with her mouth slightly ajar like a simpleton.

He mistook her strained silence.

"Yeah, I guess that's a dumb thing to wish for," he sighed.

"No!" Estelle blurted out, gripping his front. "No," she tried again at normal volume, "no, I understand. I think it's the perfect thing to wish for."

He blinked the surprise out of his eyes and gave her a coy smile.

"It's a bit late for it now," he pointed out. "Brave Vesperia's magical sunset is long gone."

The creak and sway of the net became less mocking and more peaceful. Estelle tilted her head back to see, but saw only rope, metal and tree.

"I suppose it has," she said sadly.

"You put a bit of heart into yours. How'd that turn out for you, anyway? You get your wish?"

She stared at him, stunned. Yuri smiled at her, relaxed and comforting even though they were strung up like a pair of monsters awaiting execution, indifferent about their unknown hunter and forgiving that she had put them there in the first place.

It was his biggest rescue yet, and he jerked in surprise when Estelle groaned miserably and dropped her forehead to his chest in defeat.

"Maybe it'll take a few more sunsets," she mumbled.

He gave her an awkward pat on the head.

"I'll keep an eye out for them," Yuri offered.

Estelle lifted her head to object, realised the futility, then dropped it back down with a soft _thump_.

And as the rope prison rocked her gently to and fro, Estelle could only marvel at how her only bright-side was that her wish was so_ demanding _that it was taking a long time to deliver.

As far as bright-sides went, it wasn't very bright at all.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: However terrible this chapter was, I am glad it's out of the way. Glad, glad, glad. Yuri and Estelle can just hang there for a while as punishment for being such a pain.  
Yet again, landslides of thanks for the reviews! They definately helped me haul myself through this latest abomination. Hah.**


	7. The Smell of Summer

**7: The Smell of Summer**

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_oOo_  
.

Rita _hated _riding.

For one thing, it hurt. A lot. Rita ached in every bone and joint from the journey and her backside had that slightly numb feeling that meant it was saving up all the agony to _really _mess her up tomorrow. There was nothing she could have done about that. Any attempts at trying to sit still and straight in the saddle had just made her jog and jar herself stupid. She'd bit her tongue five times.  
The only way to stop that from happening was to roll with the quietta's gait.

That. _That _was what Rita hated most about riding.

Nobody told her just what sort of motion happened in the saddle. If _she'd _designed the damn animals, things would have been much different. It could have been more like riding a trolley. You would sit on the flat part, it would draw a line from A to B and then it would simply go from one end to the other in one efficient, clean, horizontal line. Much better than the chaotic bony roller-coaster that happened naturally.  
No one had seen fit to warn her that there was… rolling involved. She'd have sooner died than suffer through an entire day of that in Raven's lap.

Quiettas were clearly not meant to be ridden. Ever.

"How're ya holding up, Mistress Mordio?" Raven called from somewhere to her left.

"You need to ask?" she snapped, thinking of saddles and hating him for it.

"Still breathin', then," he muttered.

Rita tried very hard to tell just what was going on around her. For the first time in her life, she was completely lost. Even when she'd arrived at a place she'd never been before, more often than not it was still familiar. Geology, geography, geomorphology, topography... She had scoured Terca Lumereis twice over for aer krene before she'd ever left Aspio, all in the name of study.

But this was completely different. She hadn't been able to tell what direction they'd been riding in. The motions of the quietta were so alien that she had no idea how fast they had been going. When they had stopped and she had been deposited on the ground like a child, the world was a blank canvas two inches from where her foot stopped. She could have been standing on the precipice of a cliff for all she knew.

Rita was forced to stand there. Worse than that, Raven simply... walked away as if she weren't completely reliant on him. At first she was grateful he was gone. Within a handful of moments, she was insulted. What felt like an eternity later, she was almost frightened. Desperate for anything, she had reached back to touch the quietta. It was gone as well. He must have led it away somewhere while she stretched out her sore muscles.

If Rita was perfectly rational, she couldn't have been standing there for more than ten minutes. It was a life time to someone with only their own thoughts to colour the world, and Rita let out the breath she was holding when he eventually returned, making a ridiculous amount of noise as he went. She heard the rustle of cloth and a heavy clank of metal. Her curiosity was piqued.

"Where were you?" Rita demanded.

"Gettin' changed, nosey," was the snide response. After a small pause, "If ya wanted to _participate_ honey, all ya had ta do was ask."

"Shut up."

He sighed and almost immediately after, she heard a peculiar set of _thumps_ and _ruffles_ and _thwaps_. Rita entertained herself by trying to identify what Raven was doing. It wasn't until she heard the familiar noises of flint on stone that she felt sure enough to speak up.

"Starting a fire?" There was the briefest of pauses before the familiar crackle began.

"Hey, not bad darlin'," Raven replied, sounding vaguely pleased. The next set of sounds was easier.

"Uh," Rita managed. Her stomach growled loudly in her over-sensitive ears.

"Oho? What's this? Is our genius mage a little hungry?" Raven wondered smugly.

"You wouldn't let us stop for lunch," Rita pointed out waspishly. Before her stomach betrayed her again, she slid a toe forward and encountered only rocks. "I might as well eat something while I think of it … Is there a... a pothole, a tree, or a puddle in the way?"

"Nope."

"How about our luggage? I bet you just threw it down as soon as we got here."

"You're all clear, darlin'," was his amused reply.

Rita hated waving her hands around in front of her, but she felt like her legs wouldn't work if she didn't keep them up as a barrier. She wasn't two steps in before her courage began to falter.

"Speak up, Old Man," she snapped, irritated.

"Sure sure," he said. "Over this way, Rita my sweet. Keep a comin'. Just follow the sultry, dulcet tones of my voice like a little bee to her Honey." He couldn't have strung the sentence out much further, or added more sickeningly sweet syrup to it for that matter. She was a foot away before he decided to add, "And stop."

She stopped. Something bumped her hand and after a curious moment, she realised it was a tin dinner plate.

"Speak up," she ordered.

"Yeah?"

She cuffed him with it.

"Misery," Raven moaned softly.

"I'm blind, not deaf," she replied curtly, then managed to sit down.

When Raven finished grumbling and busied himself with whatever meal he was preparing, Rita slipped the tiny blastia core from her breast pocket and ran her fingers over it.  
If she concentrated really hard, she could visualise the formula that had been functioning for that split second before it broke down the… There. Rita's thumbnail found the crack and she slid it gently down the length of the lesion. Long, but shallow. The outer ring would be damaged, but that's easily fixed.

Using only her fingers and the snapshot image burned into the back of her eyes, Rita pieced together a theory about the gem in her hand.

She had decided with complete confidence that it was a hoplon blastia by the time dinner was served.

"Grub's up, miss mage."

Rita held her plate out, felt it dip with weight, then used a finger to prod whatever was placed there. A sandwich. She lifted a corner of it and poked again. A stir-fry noodle sandwich.  
Rita listened to Raven eat his meal with the unmistakable _clink _and clatter of cutlery. She smiled to herself and picked up her own dinner with one hand.

They ate in total silence after that, and that suited Rita just fine. She was carefully putting the blastia back in her breast pocket when Raven decided to break the unspoken rule of no talking.

"Well, this is a fine mess and then some," he sighed, tin bowl hitting the ground with a _clang_.

"You should have had a sandwich like me. I keep _telling _people it's-"

"I meant being on the run," he corrected bleakly.

"Oh. That," Rita muttered.

"Kinda wish I knew what it was all about. That sure would be nice."

"Your buddies in the Black Birds didn't tell you?"

"_Dark Wings_. And nah. They didn't."

There was a marked silence. It was awkward and horrible.

"So," Rita attempted, plucking at her stockings. "We'll be at Heliord soon, right? I mean, we didn't do all that... that _riding _today just to get nowhere."

"Don't worry your pretty little head," Raven replied, but his voice sounded thick and morose. "We'll be outta each other's hair before sundown tomorrow."

It was the answer Rita wanted to hear, but it still stung with insult.

"F-Fine by me," she replied, "I have very important work to get back to."

"I bet ya do. I guess the next time Karol sees ya, you'll be thirty with some rugrats of your own?"

"What? Are you crazy? And like you're one to talk, you cancel so often Estelle doesn't even bother with invites anymore. What, are you getting too old to multi-task?"

"We've all got things ta do, places ta be." There was a twinge of warning in his voice that she'd never heard before.  
Rita scoffed at him, then turned her face aside. It was a shallow gesture. She had nothing to look at let alone avert her gaze from.

As she sat there in the very bleak silence, hearing only the crackle of the fire and the sounds of nature at night, Rita wondered furiously why this part of her life had simply stopped functioning as it should. The blindness was a given, and even then she knew that she would overcome that trial with time...

No, she wondered when Raven had become so awkward to be around.

It was true that they had never really gotten along. There were definite alliances and friendships within Brave Vesperia, and Rita had long ago come to think of her relationship with their oldest member as the most contrary and barely tolerated one. The others had found it funny.  
_She _had enjoyed it, once upon a time.

There was an understanding of sorts between them. Raven liked trying to stir her up, and she liked beating him senseless for it. That much was clear to everyone involved. Every dumb voice and every ridiculous statement almost begged for her retaliation and she gave it, without fail, slamming him for being the half-wit letch that he was and secretly loving every moment of being the sensible grown-up one.

It had been kinda nice. It was practically a partnership.

What had changed, or specifically when... well, that was something no amount of logical assessment could discern. Rita supposed she should, at the very least, be grateful that Raven tried to be subtle about it. Maybe he finally got sick of hanging around a bunch of kids. Maybe he got sick of the violence.  
Whatever his reasons, their oldest companion was suddenly never around when they expected or wanted him to be, and Rita gave up the annoying task of trying to figure out why. She had work to do, after all.

If he was over Vesperia and the people in it… well, that was _his _damn prerogative.

"I'm done. Sleep," was all Rita said, dropping her plate and suddenly wishing it was tomorrow already. She clamoured to her feet, arms folded. "Where do I go?"

There was a heavy _whump_ that sounded suspiciously like Raven throwing himself down on his bedroll.

"Sleepin' bag's to your left."

"Oh, that's a great help."

"Go on, I'll tell ya when you're gettin' warmer," he said gallantly. Rita sent a glare at his voice, but knew she probably looked ridiculous. Feeling like a moron and blaming him for it, Rita turned on the spot with a finger pointed directly out. She was halfway through a turn when he spoke up.

"Yep. That way." She began her slow creep forward, hands outstretched. "Warmer. Warmer. Whoops, cooler. Nah, just kiddin', you're warmer."

"I'm going to _remember_ this, Old Man!"

"You're no fun. Warmer again. Gettin' hot, Rita-darlin'. Hotter. Muuuch hotter."

She didn't like the voice he was using at all. Luckily, her foot bumped into something soft and downy. She dropped to her knees and patted the unrolled sleeping bag.

"Smokin'," was all Raven said, before heaving a huge and exaggerated yawn.

Rita fumbled her way out of her boots, into the bed and she curled up angrily. She didn't give him a good night, but that was fine as he didn't say it either.

That awful loaded silence was getting too familiar.

Rita screwed her eyes shut and punched her pillow into pulpy submission. Sleep was a long time coming, but it crept up on her in the darkness and stole in behind thoughts of guilds and blastia cores.

.  
_oOo_  
.

The Union cell had vines and trees growing in it. Rita felt like she was in a jungle, it was so noisy with bugs and wind and creaking branches. The cell bars jutted up out of the densely shrouded earth and went up, up, up into the sky until they were out of sight.

She wondered if she could climb them.

"You're not going anywhere."

There was a person on the other side of the cell. Rita tried to leap up, but vines were tangled around her ankles and wrists. Kaufman stepped into the light and pushed open the cell door. She was impossibly tall for some reason.

"Get me out of here, I'm not with them," Rita declared, and it was a good bluff.

"I can't do that," Kaufman replied. To Rita's horror, she was unzipping her jacket. "I want to see your guild license," came next, and the light reflected blindingly off her glasses. Rita tried to move away again but discovered that the vines were now iron. The rough cold metal slipped from her fingers.

Kaufman shrugged out of the low-cut brown coat and tossed it aside. She began unbuckling her belt.

"I don't have it with me," Rita lied. She pressed a hand to her hip to hide the rectangle of card. When Kaufman quite casually began unbuttoning her white blouse, Rita squirmed. She tried to pretend it didn't bother her.

"Hah, it's in your pocket," Kaufman suddenly said, and she stepped away from the small pile of discarded clothes and across the forest floor, snapping twigs and crunching over dry leaves. She reached down and pawed roughly at Rita's pocket.

"Oops, she's got ya there," Raven said shrewdly. Rita spun around to swing a punch at him, but there was only blackness behind her... And when she turned back, Kaufman was on the other side of the bars again.

The lingering feeling of someone grabbing at her pocket persisted; Rita slapped at her hip until the sensation stopped.

She sat on the cell bunk and watched the blackness eat up the forest floor. It chewed away at the ground beneath Kaufman's feet and continued on until it stopped at the edge of Rita's bunk. She felt like a goldfish in a bowl of ink.

When she looked up, the single figure left in the blackness turned slowly, all billowing white lines and lace. The woman in the wedding dress raised two hands, curled into fists, as if she were tightly clutching something precious she was about to set free.

She raised her face and her veil ruffled. The woman's eye sockets yawned empty, soulless and black.

"You're not even using them," the Caged Emperor's Bride said.  
And then she opened her palms.

Two perfect eyeballs stared back, turquoise and glossy, pretty like marbles.

"Hey!" Rita cried out, horrified. She couldn't see herself anymore, so she could only trust that her legs were running her forward and that her hands were reaching for what was rightfully hers.

"I don't like the colour," the Emperor's Bride said next. She sighed, gave Rita a sympathetic face full of remorse and then bowed her head.

When she crushed the eyes between her fingers, everything exploded into black.

Rita stopped dead, stunned.

The darkness was like soup, suffocating and crushing, and if she concentrated really hard... she could feel the Caged Emperor's Bride moving through it like a fish through the shallows.  
A hand gripped her wrist, cold and tight.

"Got you," the Bride whispered.

"NO!"

"-ita! Rita! Quit Struggl-"

"Get your hands off me!" Rita shouted, flailing. Her legs were tangled so she had to swing her fists instead. Another hand caught her other wrist.

"Easy, sweetheart! Rita, you're dreamin'! It's a dream!"

"They're _broken_!" she managed. She tried to blink her eyes awake, tried to see where she was just so that she could prove it wasn't in that jungle cell filled with ink.  
But she couldn't. Her ankles were still stuck. No amount of kicking freed them.

"Settle down now, darlin', it's alright," the voice said again, insufferably calm, and suddenly there was pressure against her wrists that increased until they were pinned to the ground by her shoulders. She knew she was at the edge of panic, but didn't know which side she was on.

Slowly, Rita stopped struggling and focused on getting her breath back. One of her wrists was released.

"A dream," she croaked.

"Just a nightmare. Ya back with me now?" Raven asked. The back of her head struck her pillow with a _thud_.

"I-I can't wake up," she decided with a groan.

"Sure ya can."

Easy for him to say. He could be trying to trick her again, like he had when the Bride stole her eyes from her.  
The memory doused her like a bucket of cold water. Her knee-jerk reaction was to shove Raven so hard she heard the air leave his lungs in a sudden burst. It gusted across her face in a warm wave.

Warmth?

Rita was so preoccupied with the sensation that she barely heard him sigh in resignation. She _did _hear him quite clearly get up and move away to his side of the camp though, and Rita focused intently on every footfall until he fell back down to his own sleeping bag.

There was the small amount of noise of him settling back in... and then Raven simply disappeared.

There was nothing left of him. Just the blackness and the cold wet patches on her face and the sounds of the wind in the leaves around her. It sounded so much like the jungle cell that Rita sat bolt upright, gripping her sleeping bag tightly.

How did people wake up? Had anyone really thought about it before? There was no way to prove that she _had._ The Bride could be anywhere, and every rustle of every leaf could have been her veil shifting like gossamer against her face. There was no way of being sure. The wind moaned through something hollow: was it her eye sockets, so black they bled ink?

Rita didn't feel like she made a decision. She just started moving without any real say in the matter, and she would deny that lack of control later on when the world didn't feel like a black lie and Estelle had fixed her eyesight. For now, she didn't fight the twisted feeling that compelled her to stand.

She kicked her way free of her sleeping bag and stood shivering in the dark, wanting to ask but not knowing the words to use.

"It's too cold for a walk, darlin'."

There. An echo of him, like a hazy after-image. Rita expelled all of the air in his lungs in one shaky breath.

She followed the memory of his voice and each foot fall on the rough earth a small victory in itself.

It was hard not to hate the blackness with all of her heart. In the darkness, her world had shrunken down to a tiny nugget that was only big enough for the things that she normally didn't care about. All that was real for her right now was what she could touch.  
There was a rock under the left side of her foot, not quite large enough to roll her ankle but sharp enough to hurt. There was the incessant tickle of her hair around her face which turned into a tug when it caught in the crease of lips. The sound of the light breeze through the leaves was made tangible when she streamed slithers of the cold wind through her blindly groping fingertips.

Every step erased the old things and brought in new. None of it mattered, but it was all that there was.

Raven became real when his fingers closed around hers.

Rita latched on to the warm digits immediately, not knowing if she was crushing them in her haste, not really caring either. Once she was sure he wasn't going to vanish the moment she let go, Rita bumbled and groped her way from his wrist to his elbow, getting annoyingly tangled in that stupid oversized jacket of his along the way. Once that was secure, she patted and slapped her way up to his shoulder and gave it a clinical squeeze and a rough shake.

He was sitting up at least. Sturdy enough. Warm enough by half. More real that the Caged Emperor's Bride and less frightening by far. It would do.

Rita navigated her way around where he sat and lowered herself awkwardly to the ground at his back. She was mostly on the dirt, so she gave him a jab in the spine.

"Sh-Shove over," she stuttered, poking him again roughly and shuffling further onto the bedroll when he obediently moved. She found that shoulder again and gave it a suspicious pat. Still there.

Raven didn't say a word.

"Shut up," Rita ordered anyway. There were only two kinds of response she knew him to have, and it disturbed her to find neither the usual smug mockery nor the lewd comments.  
She shivered a little.

"You breathe a word of this to anyone and it'll be your last," she warned him with real, deathly intent. Still no reply. "A-And for your information it wasn't a nightmare."

His back was a broad expanse of warmth against her side and she felt him turn slightly. Rita could almost see the expression of leering disbelief.

"It wasn't!" she snapped. She vented her embarrassment and anger by hauling on his blanket until she pulled it out from under him. "It was just w-weird. So shut up. Go to sleep. If you wake me up again you're dead." She felt substantially better with each order, and Rita yawned hugely. She wrapped herself up tightly, dropped a cheek to one of his shoulder blades and scowled.

"Stop tensing up," she muttered, jabbing him in the kidney once or twice as if he were a lumpy pillow in need of fluffing, then settled down again.

Raven was really uncomfortable. He was as still as a statue and it was like trying to find comfort on a rock. And when it was all said and done, he was still _Raven_. But she couldn't see him, and that helped, and he wasn't speaking which helped even more. She just got the tolerable parts.

He was giving off enough warmth to make her head all muddy with fatigue, and the scent she had been vaguely aware of but never truly understood was filling her nostrils.

He smelled like summer.

Like drying grass? Rita wondered. She hugged herself tighter and, not quite aware she was doing it, angled her face closer. Her nose almost met the middle of his shoulder-blades. Nope, not that. Maybe the beach. Not that either. Of skin just shy of sunburnt? Warm rain on sand. Maybe the barest hint of spice? Her next deep breath in evolved into a yawn afterwards.

Whatever. Who knew?

Raven smelled to her like a lazy day doing nothing much under the scorching sun, and Rita slowly drifted to sleep feeling quite calm.

The Caged Emperor's Bride was perfectly at home among moaning wind and rustling leaves, a creature of cold nights and biting iron... but she had no place in that bubble of warmth and summer. The feeling was so absolute that Rita would forget both the Emperor's Bride and the ridiculous fear that had driven her to where she now sat by the morning.

She _would _recall the calm though, and decide after the mortification of waking up that it hadn't been such a bad night after all.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: I didn't _intend _on torturing Rita instead of Raven, but it certainly turned out that way. Her weird collection of irrational fears is adorable!  
Something akin to PLOT happens next chapter... Thank you for your patience!**


	8. Echoes

**8: Echoes**

.  
_oOo_  
.

It took longer than Yuri expected for their captor to finally make an appearance. The night had already stretched transparent and thin into the pre-dawn morning, too early for even the birds. The peace felt fragile and unreal. Yuri didn't sleep; every snapped twig and every leafy rustle could have been the one hunting them, and no amount of brainstorming could haul his dropped sword up from the bed of leaves below.  
They waited the night away.

Estelle had been exhausted from the first. It hadn't taken long for her to drop off into a doze against his shoulder shortly after they'd ran out of words, but it was fitful, shallow and doomed to failure.

She had never been good at slumming it with the rest of them. She _had_ been good at hiding her discomfort about it, but that had always bothered Yuri more than it reassured him.  
Sometimes he wished she'd just put her foot down and demand a real inn, a long bath, a week off for rest… anything. She never did, and that annoyed him more than her inability to adapt. After all, it wasn't so long ago that Estelle slept in the priciest house in Halure with neighbours pretending not to be her servants tending to her every whim. What would the Chancellor say if he knew she was freezing herself stupid in torn brown rags, hanging sleeplessly from a net so heavy and course it was crushing the life out of their limbs?

Estelle didn't say a word as they silently lost feeling in their feet.

It bothered Yuri to the point of anger, but he wasn't stupid enough to let that irritation out. It wasn't meant for her anyway. He bottled the emotion up, a convenient well of fire that warmed his chilled limbs even when the morning layered frost across the grass. Every time a twig snapped and he was reminded why they were there… he gave that well of anger another stoke.

He was burning when the first sounds of their captor began to crack the surreal stillness of the cold, grey morning.

"Is-Is that them? I couldn't think of a plan in time!" Estelle confessed in a hushed whisper. Yuri twisted in the net, trying to see.

"I was going to make it up as we go. That usually works," he replied simply.

"Yuri, don't be reckless!"

"Hey, you said you didn't have a plan."

"But I thought you might know… what…"

She trailed into an uneasy silence as a new figure slid into the clearing through the early morning glow between the trees.

He was tiny even without the silhouette. There was no reason for the menace that made the morning colder. There was no reason for Yuri to suddenly stop smiling. It was just a small, delicate looking man with his winter hood up and half a sullen expression poking out from beneath.  
He carried himself like he knew how to hurt someone efficiently and quickly.

The small newcomer came to a stop some distance away and folded his arms as if he was freezing.

"Don't mind me," he said sourly.

Yuri met the man's sharp, evaluative glare, forcing himself to relax.

"And here I thought we'd be hanging around for days," he said casually. "I gotta say kid, this is taking 'fashionably late' a little too far."

The figure stared up at Estelle and Yuri for a cold, uncomfortable moment. It somehow got colder and more uncomfortable when he smiled.

"And you would be Lowell," he stated flatly.

Sharp, icy malice surged through Yuri's chest in a torrent, almost too hard to control. The enemy wasn't so far away... further than his sword, but just as unreachable.

"You're a bit taller than I expected," the newcomer mused into the strained silence.

"That's funny, and here I was thinking that you were a whole lot shorter," Yuri replied softly, unable to keep the promise of violence out of his voice.

"Yes. Funny," the man replied coldly. The angle of his head tilted suddenly, and with a volume that sounded wrong coming from such a small set of lungs, he added, "And _you_." He reached up and pushed back his hood. Crimson eyes scoured Estelle's face from eyebrows to the tip of her chin, sharp and unforgiving. His long slender ears were pale blades of white in the diminished light, looking oversized and strange above the forlorn blue tufts that framed his jaw.  
The ruffs of downy feather were once krityan antennae, now hacked short near the base, ugly and pitiful.

The tiny krityan looked like a mangled creature when he suddenly glared up at her.

"You must be Estellise Sidos Heurassein, Empress in Waiting, popular author and Child of the Full Moon. You can call me Waylin, your highness," he said mockingly. Estelle froze against Yuri's chest.

"You sent me the letters…" Estelle breathed. She blushed furiously under Yuri's bewildered gaze, terrified but somehow guilty.  
The krityan named Waylin scoffed and tightened his folded arms.

"Me? No, I wouldn't have bothered. It was the others that insisted on giving you a _chance_…" he choked it out, like the word was a wad of bile from the bottom of his gut.

Estelle couldn't have looked more confused or distraught.

"P-Please!" she suddenly exclaimed, leaning forward so suddenly the net rocked. "I-I've offended people! I-I see that now! But you must forgive me, I have no idea what it is I've done wrong. If you would just tell me what it is you meant in your letters!"

"Your _brother-_" the krityan began, almost wincing with disgust. Estelle shook her head fervently.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have a brother! You must be mistake-"

Rage flashed across the krityan's face, hot and quick. It simmered in his eyes oddly even when understanding twisted his mouth into an ugly line.

"How could you not know..? You managed to call him. You mean to tell me that you activated it without even knowing _what it was_? How is that even possible?" There was a strained silence. Estelle's eyes flickered hurriedly around the clearing, quick and nervous. Whatever memory she dredged up flooded her face with understanding and she leant forward again, eager.

"D-Do you mean the blastia core? Did it activate? I - I gave it to my friend. I didn't know what it was, so I-"

She recoiled from his expression as if he'd struck her.

"_You gave it away._" The malice was unmistakable.

"Alright, I've about had enough of this. What the hell is going on?" Yuri demanded, twisting the net to swing Estelle away from that hateful gaze. "What _brother_?"

Waylin slowly unfolded his arms and let them hang limp by his sides. Complex knuckles of spiked steel covered each hand, and the metal shifted weirdly when he clenched and unclenched his fists. Yuri didn't watch for long; he could see more of the tiny krityan's intent in his crimson eyes.

The man was walking a knife-edge down the line of sanity, half a breath from manic.

"That I have to remind you is a crime, Child of the Full Moon. Your _brother, _Child, still hangs in the dark. Your _brother_, girl, upheld his sacred end of the bargain while you sat around _writing books_. Your callous disregard left him to rot!"

"Brave Vesperia," Estelle breathed.

"The… The dead blastia in orbit? You're talking about the blastia?" Yuri managed. He was struggling to keep up, but even his minor contribution caused the tiny krityan to shake with rage.

"_Dead?_" Waylin choked out. He took a step forward, paused, and then hovered by the forest edge, looking completely unhinged and murderous. He drew in a shaking breath before saying, "Is that why you betrayed him? You just _assumed _he was dead?"  
Estelle was so stunned she was speechless. Yuri shifted uncomfortably against her, hands tight around the course rope. The net creaked in the deathly silence.

He had been counting on a fight. Hell, he'd been counting on a _challenge_. He hadn't been counting on a madman, and he hadn't been expecting the reason for the violence against Estelle and the guild to be more complicated than 'because we hate you'…  
Weirdly, his sword felt further away than ever.

"Brave Vesperia," Yuri said carefully, "is just a barrier blastia. _It _wasn't betrayed."

It was the wrong thing to say. Something flickered in the krityan's eyes and he suddenly barked out a laugh, brittle and edged. He continued to chuckle long after it had become awkward. Estelle's hand on Yuri's arm contracted in a tight fist, small and shaking. It took a long while for him to stop laughing, and expression after it was shocking in its contrast; the krityan spat viciously on the ground in Estelle's direction.

"_Stupid _criminals are as guilty as the next," he snapped. The tiny assassin took a purposeful step forward; every muscle across Yuri's back tensed.

Something chose that moment to land on the canopy above.

The air slammed down like a mallet in a brief but brutal crush; one tree splintered at its base in an explosion of kindling, barely staying upright, and a rain of dead leaves and branches were thrown to the forest floor. There was no way of peering through the dense trees to see what had alighted up there. The only hint of form was the giant blot that blocked the dappled sunlight through the leaves.

Waylin wasn't happy to see it.

"_You? _But I'm not _done _yet!" he shouted. Every tree in the clearing groaned as the giant form shifted over the forest rooftop. For half a heart-beat, one serpentine, spiked tendril dipped below the leaves and then was gone again. Waylin stomped a foot like a child throwing a tantrum. "I don't need a _babysitter!_"

He spun when the sounds of noisy pursuit broke through the forest.

"It landed over here!"

The krityan leapt back. The giant form above recoiled in a weird wave of bending trees.

The group that entered the clearing through the early morning glow was a familiar one; the central figure was large enough to block most of the weak sunlight. Clint of the Hunting Blades dwarfed the krityan twice over, a mountain of muscle and weaponry, sword set across on shoulder and eyes wide.

He stared up at the shape on the treetops, down to the tiny krityan with the mangled antennae, and then beyond him to the net.

A pair of figures appeared at his side. Tison leant forward with an impossible curve of his spine, eyes shadowed under his hood. Nan was on the right with her chakram across her shoulder as if she had been expecting to use it, the blade angled just so to bounce blinding light into the clearing.  
Clint met Yuri's gaze. There was no surprise there. The heavy-set guild leader took a single step forward and dropped the tip of his colossal sword to the turf with a _chock._

"Tison, up. Nan, the trap," was all he said. The two hunters nodded curtly, one with a grin, the other with a frown.

Tison was the first to move; he slid past Clint with a strange skip and then abruptly launched upwards in a snap of movement. He was through the leaves like an arrow. Waylin cried out in alarm.

Nan was next, and she pivoted on her heel, then spun out in a flash that sent her blade shearing through the clearing like a buzz-saw. It carved an impossibly clean line in the trunks of several trees before it curved back and sliced through the top of the net.  
Yuri and Estelle dropped to the ground heavily, hitting the turf awkwardly in a knot of numb limbs. Waylin darted his wild eyes from the treetops to Estelle's face and then back again.

"You're luck _astounds _me," he hissed at her, then turned and leapt nimbly from the grass to a low branch. He paused only briefly before he shot upwards through the trees after Tison.

The clearing was deathly quiet without him.

"_Dammit!_"

Estelle winced when Yuri slammed a fist into the ground. He heaved the last of the rope to the side and staggered to his feet, dislodging Estelle in the process. His sword was in his hand in a heart beat, feeling heavy and solid and very right... but there was no one to use it on. His knuckles went white on the grip.  
Yuri paced half a turn around the trees, wondered how he was going to get up into the canopy.

A blast of sound suddenly flattened the clearing in a crush of wind, so heavy and thrumming it dropped them to their knees. The leaves quivered and tore free; the trees vibrated like struck drums.

Tison punched through the canopy with such force that when struck the ground on his back, he gouged a deep groove across one half of the clearing until he was slammed against a tree. He sunk against the roots, groaning.

Estelle stumbled over to him even as the sound dimmed to a rolling echo. The shadow above them lifted from the tortured trees and began to move away.

"Get the hell back here!" Yuri bellowed at the leafy rooftop. He watched uselessly as, with the unmistakable beat of wings, the huge shadow was gone. The still silence left behind was mocking.

The sound of healing artes broke the mockery, sharp and jarring.

"S'awesome," Tison managed through a twisted grin, easing himself up into a sit as the magic knit his ribs back together.

"That kid was with the monster? You sure got some weird enemies, princess," Clint said simply. Estelle flinched at that. Her hands shook as they hovered over Tison's chest, and she sent another spell in his direction.

"I- It's not what you think," she stuttered. "I'm… I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding." Even though her patient stretched gratefully, fully healed, Estelle leant closer and pushed another spell into his ribs. She continued in a strained pitch, "A-And everyone knows misunderstandings can lead to all sorts of trouble, right? But I thought I would have a chance to… to talk it through and solve it on my own… I mean, I really am very sorry you got hurt, but I would never have dreamt that it would be anyone else's problem but my own. A-After all, they were addressed to _me_. Um. Oh, I... I mean, the blastia core was attached and I had to give that to Rita, but y-you know she'll have that solved by the next time we see her and I didn't think I would hurt anyone by... I didn't know it was wrong to…"

She was babbling.

"Estelle." She visibly flinched at his voice. Yuri took a short, steadying breath. "Estelle, _what _are you talking about?"

She looked guilty enough as she was rambling, but now she looked utterly caught out. Something hardened in Yuri's gut.

Estelle licked her lips and lowered both shaking hands to her lap. It took her several moments, but eventually she slid her fingers into one of her pockets.

"I… I'm sorry Yuri. I didn't tell you at the time but… S-Someone sent me letters."

.  
_oOo_  
.

"Rita. Rita, wake up. Come on, kid, rise and shine."

The fiercest intellect on Terca Lumeries mumbled something about palm trees, groaned a little, then rolled over and burrowed her head further into her makeshift pillow.

Raven covered his face with a hand.

"Just my damn luck," he muttered, daring to take a peek at her through his fingers. He was kneeling beside what used to be _his _bedroll, shivering a little in his thin pink shirt and wondering how the hell it had come to this. He refused to admit he was watching her sleep.

She didn't look all that intimidating when something made her smile in her sleep. She crossed the line into angelic completely when she nuzzled her way deeper into the bundle of purple cloth under her cheek.  
Raven grimaced.

It was already hard enough to wake her knowing he'd probably lose a few teeth for his trouble, but _this _was just cruel. Luckily for his waning will-power, it didn't take long for her to finally give him the incentive to try harder.

"Hey! Aw, don't _drool _on it, hun! It's the only one I got!" Raven managed. Rita actually put up a fight when he gripped as much of his jacket as he could and pulled. She had latched onto it at some point during the night and, at the time, it had been easier to slip free of it rather than of her. He was regretting the decision now, for more reasons than he would care to admit to.  
Rita growled when the tug-of-war became more insistent.

Giving up on his jacket, Raven gripped one of her shoulders instead. She surged up to a sit so quickly he leapt back with a yelp, shielding his face.

"Nuh wha- dun fer hokay," she slurred.

"M-Mornin', Bright-eyes," Raven greeted her with a pained smile.

"Right. M'ai awake?" Rita asked next. She licked her lips and scratched at the back of her head, ruffling the hay-stack of her hair. She was bleary-eyed and not quite all there… but she was relaxed and trusting, a far cry from the state she'd been in last night.

"Yup," Raven replied, taking the opportunity and reach out and pull on his jacket. Her fist tightened instantly on one collar before it could slip from her shoulders. Gently, because he was almost too gutless to try, he said, "Think I could get that back now, darlin'? I'm gonna need it."

Rita looked confused for a moment. Horror fell over her face and she all but threw the jacket at him.

"H-How long have I..? No, what time is it?" Rita demanded, scrambling to her feet.

"Too early ta be up, but we've got a long walk ahead of us."

She ran a hand over her face, nodded, and then groped around her feet blindly. Raven placed her mismatched boots on the ground and nudged them in her direction with a toe; she found them eventually and it wasn't until she had almost tugged on the longest one that she paused.

"Wait," she said, "walk? What happened to your precious quietta?"

It wasn't like she could see his face. It was probably habit that had Raven keep it perfectly blank when he replied,

"It slipped its bridle while we were sleepin'. It'll be long gone by now." There was only the barest of pauses before she rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"Typical. You can't even tie an animal to a tree properly."

Raven let her think so. He watched her cautiously as she got herself in order. It fascinated him that she had to touch every single one of the various instruments that dangled from her coat at least twice, and she put more effort into adjusting her goggles than she did her dishevelled hair.  
He had to avert his eyes guiltily when she crouched over to roll up and zip up the sleeping bag blindly.

"Okay, I'm ready," Rita declared. She straightened, reached out and flapped her hands. "Pass the luggage over. I can at least carry something."

"Nah, leave it," Raven replied. "You'll need your hands."

Her teal eyes narrowed, slowly.

"If this is perverted-" she began, voice full of warning. He chuckled.

"Get your mind outta the gutter, my girl," Raven said with just enough affront to make her scowl. "I was thinkin' we could rinse and repeat our cloak trick. Unless it got a whole lot less convenient since yesterday."

"Huh. Yeah, okay. Works for me," Rita replied reasonably. As if that wasn't shocking enough, she stepped forward and brought her hands to his chest with a comfortable slap, fingers questing over his collar for purchase. Raven almost choked on his tongue.  
Rita fumbled her way over his shoulder and trailed her fingers down his back until she had the two coat-tails in each hand.

She flapped them experimentally.

"Mush, or whatever," she said drily. Raven took the moment to stop his replacement heart from whirring like a broken clock.

He had been dreading this morning. There had been quite a lot of worst-case-scenarios that he'd been torturing himself with over the past few hours, and most of them involved his untimely demise. There was a number of horrible, unnatural ways for a man to die by magic, and Rita had the creativity to double that. How she was going to react to her moment of weakness was _anyone's _guess.  
The idea that she would wake up too comfortable with the idea of touching him hadn't even been on the list.

It sure as hell was on there now.

"What, do you need a carrot on a stick, Old Man? Let's go!" Rita demanded impatiently, driving her heel into the back of his. He lurched forward a step, muttered grim nothings under his breath and then moved forward.

Leaving the camp behind was a small mercy. Travelling light had meant he would have to help her less, and although arms length wasn't the ideal amount of distance he was after, it was a damn sight better than the saddle. It was the best he could manage.

It wasn't just because the pre-dawn chill was creeping into every bone and joint - Raven set a demanding pace for the simple, glorious hope that if they hurried, they'd make it to Heliord by noon. They had camped on the very edge of the forest for the cover of the trees, and it was smooth sailing across the plains towards the Rising City from here. They only thing stopping them from arriving at midday was just how well Rita handled the trek without her eyes.

It was completely unreasonable to expect a blind girl to keep the pace up, but Raven had resigned himself to feeling like a monster for the entire trip. Rita wordlessly matched his lengthy stride, impressing and shaming him in one heart-rending swoop.

She did so well that, within the space of an hour, the thick grasses of the forests thinned until they grew sparse, tall and hardy on the red rock of the foothills.

Heliord rose out of the horizon like an elaborate sword hilt out of the ground, wedged between the cliffs and banked up against the waterfall that cascaded into the sea. Dawn broke behind it and had stretched a chilling shadow from the city's base, across the entire plain where it simply bled away in the grey light.

The sun had crawled up past the city when it happened.

The sound burst out over the plain as if from an open wound split into sky itself, making the tall grasses lash and the stones rattle. Rita plastered herself against Raven's side with a surprised shout; he gripped her small frame tightly. Even _with_ his eyes his legs nearly gave out.

The sound pressed down like a weight until it eventually rolled away like thunder. The wind picked up.

"W-W-What the hell was that?"

"Damned if I know!"

Rita hooked a leg around his for balance and raised her arms. Strings of formula scrawled themselves through the air in angry tendrils of flame.

"_That's it_! Something's gonna burn, and if you don't want it to be you Old Man, you better tell me where the hell to aim!" she snarled as her hands raised to the skyline. Raven forced them both down again.

"Hold on now, don't start throwin' spells around until we know wh-"

They were nearly blown clean off their feet when the wind became a gale.

A giant shape shot out from the forest behind them, shrieked in overhead, and then sped across the plateaus. It was a deep blue streak against the grey morning sky, already gone before Raven could fully understand what had just happened.

"D-Did ya see that?" he managed. Rita muffled something sarcastic into his chest. He was too stunned to loosen his arms quick enough; she drove her fist into his ribs.

The young mage blinked her blind eyes, nose still aimed at his blast heart even as he wheezed air back into his lungs.

"That… that sounded kinda like Ba'ul," she said sharply.

"I thought we knew every entelexeia left over after the Adephagos," Raven replied weakly. The wind slowly died down to a chill and uneven swirl around them.

"It's gone," Rita said in a low voice, half question, half not.

"…Yeah, I think so. Over the ranges."

"Good. Let's get out of here. Fast."

"Way ahead of ya, darlin'."

The demanding pace became punishing, but neither found it in themselves to care.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: Naughty Estelle. It's a bit of a relief to move the plot along to be honest, even if it was messy as hell and vague as hades.  
On a side note: dodgy life issues mean updates are derailed from the neat weekly formula. I'll update my profile with progress reports, though who knows how it'll roll.**

**I'll definately be stewing the story along in planning phase however, so now is an optimal time to give me suggestions, thoughts and feedback! Thanks for reading and hopefully it won't be long till the next!**


	9. Our Unspoken Truths prt1

**9: Our Unspoken Truths prt 1**

.  
_oOo_  
.

Heliord was a half-realised whisper in the waterfall's shrouding mist, veiled by an overcast day and the southerly wind that blew the spray right across the city.

Visibility in the Keep was low. Flynn considered it a challenge when he caught the sword edge on his shield at just the right angle. The blade skittered over the Imperial crest, rang a clear note against the metal and then slid off to sever the weapons rack into neat halves.  
Swords, halberds and pikes clattered to the dusty spar yard ground in a cascade.

The Commandant of the Imperial Forces stepped away from the mess, deliberately leaving his left flank unguarded. The opening didn't go unnoticed. Flynn swung away in a neat pirouette and used the edge of his shield to push his assailant further through his unbalanced thrust. Yuri stumbled through the sudden lack of resistance, swearing.

"We just gonna dance all day, or are you actually gonna take a swing?" he demanded, frustrated.

"It depends on if we're sparring or chopping wood," Flynn retorted seriously. Yuri grinned.

"Oh, it is _so _on."

The challenge worked. Yuri came in low, one hand over the other to mask his grip and his footwork vague; the Commandant couldn't read the advance and was forced back a step. His opponent brought his blade in an upwards arc, under the misaligned shield and too quick to dodge.

Metal rang when Flynn caught the rampant blade on the cross guard of his sword, half a breath from reaching his ribs. He was too off balance to riposte; the Commandant shoved the weapon away and pulled back a few steps to regain his stance.

"Well at least you're _awake_ now," Yuri said sarcastically, levelling the tip of his sword at his childhood friend. Flynn swatted the blade aside with his own.

"Awake and unimpressed," was his curt reply. "Your form is sloppy, Yuri. And with assassins on your tail as well... You certainly picked a fine time to slack off!"

"Spare me the _lecture_," Yuri groaned expressively, half a twist from angry. He shouldered the blunt edge of his sword and it bounced there, impatient. Flynn began to circle.

"Yuri, this is serious! If anything, your guild leader was nearly killed!"

"I'm fine!" Karol called from the sidelines, finishing off his second helping of the lunch they had filched from the kitchen.

"He's fine," Yuri agreed dismissively with a shrug. Flynn shot forward into an abrupt thrust. Yuri deflected his blade just in time, eyes wide.

"If it wasn't for Repede and Judith," Flynn began seriously, shoving against the locked blades before falling away again. Yuri watched him pace cautiously.

In truth, Flynn had heard the story from LeBlanc's hastily written report. When Judith, Karol and Repede had arrived at Heliord early that morning, neither the boy or the krityan seemed to have clear idea of just what had happened.

Judith was simply distracted. She had been peering up into the sky suspiciously when they'd arrived and could barely hold a conversation without dropping off into private contemplation. To his knowledge, she was still pacing the upper battlements, face angled upwards and, as she put it, 'listening'.  
Karol, on the other hand, simply had no idea at all. He certainly didn't realise just how close to his own death he had come, but sometimes the young took luck for granted. _Yuri _should have grown out of that lackadaisical trust years ago.

"Well alright then, _Commandant_. I'd like to know what _you _would have done so differently," Yuri said derisively. He was already getting better; he waited until Flynn's pace took him to his off-foot, then darted forward for a furious set of blows. The Commandant parried the first two, wove aside from the third and then brought his shield up to catch the final strike.

Metal clattered violently under the strain.

"I'd have listened to the Captain for a start," he replied shortly. Yuri snorted.

"Who, the _Old Man_? You're kidding, right? There aren't enough hours in the day!"

"Captain Scwhann is as honourable and reliable as they come, Yuri!"

"Yeaaah, I don't think we're talkin' about the same guy," Yuri replied with a grin.

In some respects, it was true. It hadn't been Captain Schwann Oltorain that had arrived at the keep via the mighty stone staircase a few hours ago. It had been Raven of Altosk, and the guild informant had plodded up the final row of steps with the staggering pace of someone who was quite ready to keel over and die. He had been carrying the mage Rita Mordio on his back as if she were a dead body.

Unlike Karol, miss Mordio had been not quite as lucky; her brush with the violence in Dahngrest had left her blind. Raven might have displayed a little of Schwann's chivalry by carrying her up the final steps, but the juxtaposition was short-lived. At the first sign of his comrades, the good Captain had shrugged her free like an unwanted winter coat, dropped her to the stone and all but skipped away.

No two men could be more unalike. The fact that those two men were, in fact, the same man boggled the mind.

"Reliable or not, at least _he _protected miss Mordio," Flynn muttered. He hadn't been subtle enough with his tone. Yuri jerked as if stung, and then lunged in with a violent over arm swing. It had more force than anticipated; it struck Flynn's sword like a hammer blow and nearly forced both blades down onto his shoulder.

Surprised, the Commandant met Yuri's eyes. Icy intent resided there.

"_They _didn't have to deal with lunatics," Yuri retorted gravely. Flynn shoved his best friend back a step and brought his sword down in a brutal hack of his own.

"I hardly think that's an excuse for your _reckless _behaviour!" he exclaimed.

"What, you gonna tell me how I was hanging around in a trap all wrong, now?"

"What were you even doing in the woods?"

Metal rang furiously as Yuri drove Flynn back a few feet with a sharp and vicious sequence of blows.

"Getting to Heliord the _quick _way," Yuri shot back.

"You never think things through," Flynn managed, appalled. "Who do you suppose would have bailed you out if the Hunting Blades hadn't been chasing that monster? Did you think of _that_?"

"Get off my back already, it was my call to make!"

Flynn set his jaw angrily. It hadn't been hard to see just how wrong the trip from Dahngrest had been when Yuri had stormed the Keep as if the Imperial Knights were to blame. That Estellise had trailed along behind him miserably like a guilty, chastised child, almost in tears… Well, that had been the final brushstroke on a grim picture.

It made him angry.

There were no words, not while the blades flashed erratically in intricate and deadly patterns. Flynn focused and waited, watching the attack unfold with increasing waves of anger. That suited him fine; the angrier Yuri got, the more he reversed to old bad habits…  
_There._ Flynn rolled the high cut past his shoulder, let the momentum lead Yuri just a little towards him… and then Flynn punched his friend across the jaw with enough force to send him reeling.

"And that's for upsetting Lady Estellise!" he snapped, shaking his wrist. Yuri held his chin in his hand for a moment, and then lifted his eyes.

The swordsman came back with a wide swing that Flynn knocked aside on instinct. Before he could bring is arms back in, Yuri ducked in and slammed his fist into Flynn's gut.

"Woah, guys what are you-" Karol began.

"What the _hell _are you talking about?" Yuri demanded. "You think that was _m_-"

He was cut short when Flynn rammed him with his shield and knocked the renegade flat on his back.

"You always were blind!"

Yuri said nothing. The Commandant of the Imperial Forces mopped his brow, sucked in a long breath, and then frowned down at the familiar man spread out on the sparring yard ground. He let him lay there for a heartbeat before reaching a hand down to help his childhood friend back up.

He should have known better.

Yuri kicked out and swept Flynn's feet out from under him, dropping him to his back with a bone jarring _thud._

They lay there breathlessly, staring up at the blanket grey sky.

"The sooner we figure this out, the better," Yuri wheezed.

"On that we agree," Flynn croaked.

Karol and Repede wandered over once they had decided the worst had passed, and their canine companion seemed particularly unimpressed. Flynn gave the dog a rub of the ears when he hauled himself to his feet. Yuri wasn't far behind. He rose still rubbing his chin.

"And to think I used to say you hit like a girl. That _actually _hurt."

Flynn laughed.

It was while they were dusting their clothes free of the fine dirt when there came a familiar rattle of armour behind them; he didn't need to turn around, the sharp _clank_ was unmistakable.

"Sir!"

"What is it Sodia?" Flynn asked, retrieving his sword. His sharp-eyed lieutenant eyed Yuri cautiously for a tense moment before gathering herself.

"Lady Estellise has finished with the infirmary. It looks like the mage Mordio has made a full recovery and they're waiting in the debriefing hall."

"That's great! Oh man, I was so worried," Karol managed.

"Finally, a bit of _good_ news," Yuri agreed.

Flynn breathed out in relief. To Yuri and Karol, he nodded.

"Alright, you should get to the hall as well. I'll find the others and be there soon."

"Right, see you there," Yuri returned immediately.

Flynn watched the three companions make their way from the dusty sparring yard and up to the second tier of the city. They had disappeared behind the battlements when he realised how closely Sodia hovered beside him.

It didn't bother him so much as it might another officer in the Imperial Knights, but the breach of regulation was something his serious lieutenant was normally fastidious about. That made him curious. He turned his head slightly, waiting.

"Sir," she whispered, right on queue.

"What's wrong, Sodia?"

"I made some enquiries with the staff when you were…" – here she glanced at the scuffed yard – "_talking _with your… friend. I found something strange."

"Go on, lieutenant."

"There are... anomalies in the staff. People where there shouldn't be. I've narrowed it down to the inner Keep. Sir, I think there are intruders in Heliord."

"I see." Flynn grimaced. "That's good work, Sodia. Can I leave this to you?"

"Sir."

She broke away and was gone in an efficient series of strides towards the servant's quarters. Flynn shook his head.

He wasn't entirely sure how they did it, but his dear friends had a remarkable talent for getting themselves into the strangest and deadliest of situations. And although he didn't begrudge them for it, Flynn recognised when he would have to trail behind them again and clean up the mess left behind.  
The Imperial Knights probably wouldn't appreciate their Commandant sweeping up after a small group of guild members, but unlike them, he knew just how disastrous Vesperia's problems could be when left unchecked.

He knew, without any form of proof, that the attacks in Dahngrest were the tip of the iceberg.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Karol got to read the letters first. It was probably just as well.

Everyone else was so engrossed in them that he was able to rub the tickling heat from his eyes before anyone noticed. The meeting room was dusty, that was all. It got in his eyes and made them blurry.

It had nothing to do with the fact that his family was finally gathered together in the one room.

It didn't even matter that the perfect image was disjointed and broken. Yuri, normally the calm and dazzling centre of whatever storm they weathered, was lingering by the doorway and looking very much like he was about to slip out to cause dark havoc at any moment. Estelle was usually so proper and polite, but she could barely last five seconds without casting Yuri a miserable and analytical look. For the first time since he'd known him, Karol saw that Repede was lingering closely to the Princess' side. What was that about?

Rita was weirding Karol out further by being silent and patient in a chair by the central table. Her arms were neatly folded and her eyes were closed in an almost meditative way. She wasn't even tapping a foot. Raven was being just as strange; he was sitting on the large meeting room table with his legs crossed, but he had his back to almost everyone present as if it was merely coincidence they were all in the same room.

Judith finalised the crazy by not even bothering to look remotely curious or nosey about the letters. She kept glancing out the tall thin windows as if something more interesting was out there.  
She'd been like that all day. She hadn't even teased Estelle and Yuri when they had explained just where they'd spent the night, and she had no glib comment for Raven when he had carried Rita up the entire length of Heliord's main steps.

Karol turned his eyes around the room one more time. It was the weirdest thing he had ever seen in his life, but it was _his _weird family. He scrubbed furiously at his face again.

Stupid dust.

Eventually Flynn and Witcher arrived with a small group of soldiers who disappeared like wraiths against the dark walls. The Commandant looked a little haggard; pale and pinched, his face disappeared behind his hand briefly before he shook his head and took a seat at the table.  
Witcher stood on his left. Vesperia very slowly joined them. Karol felt his stomach wobble when he pulled his own chair out, but he dismissed it as excited nerves.

The meeting room table was needlessly massive. It had been designed for maps, strategy boards and the possibility of an entire military command huddled around its perimeter. Vesperia was dwarfed by it. The letters were smaller still, stacked on top of what looked to be a half-built replica of the Tolbyccia continent.

"And this is all you have in regards to the people trying to kill you," Flynn surmised. He was sweating slightly, as if he had run a mile.

"Yes, I… I received the letters over the course of a year, but they were gathering with the rest of the fan-mail while I travelled," Estelle said with no small amount of guilt.

Karol stared at the innocent looking squares of white paper, baffled.

"_That _is why they blew up the dock and the guild front? 'Cause… you neglected a brother you don't have?" he managed.

Yuri had been the only one left standing; he suddenly pushed himself off the door jam and made his way to the table. The swordsman threw himself onto his vacant chair, leant back and dropped his boots to the tabletop with a _thud_.

"Sure her brother exists," Yuri said flippantly. "Come on Captain, you can do better than that."

Karol swallowed past a growing lump in his throat.

"Wait, you don't mean…" he managed. "Not Estelle... but the Child of the Full Moon? People are trying to kill us because of... Because of the _legend_?"

"Not the legend," Rita corrected suddenly, opening her healed eyes with a snap. All that time without their use seemed to have made her glare twice as sharp and three times as pinning. She levelled it on Karol when she continued, "Brave Vesperia, the major component of the barrier blastia that kept the Adephagos sealed away. We're talking about the seal lodged in the sky."

"Right, so I'm not the only one missin' somethin'," Raven said aloud. He was looking over his shoulder at the letters propped up against Heliord's miniature, face half hidden by his upturned collar. He turned away from their attention and shrugged at the wall. "This old man has his moments of sentimentality, but even I draw the line at gettin' choked up about some hunk of blastia scrap up in the stars. The spirit's already long gone, what sorta nutjob cares so much about the shell left behind? As far as excuses go for tryin' ta murder every member of the guild, it's a weak one."

"My point exactly," Yuri agreed in a strangely husky voice.

Rita shook her head. She pushed back her chair with a clatter and climbed onto the table to drop the blastia core onto the pile. It winked back at its audience like a glossy black eye.  
The young mage fell back into her chair and folded her arms, lips a tight line.

"_This _came with the letters. It's a highly condensed hoplon blastia core," she explained. "It's so dense that the flux caused when it's working actually loops around like a magnetic field. You can see the colour is still almost black."

"That means it's so thick inside that it's compressing itself into matter," Witcher clarified. Rita shot him a glare before continuing.

"Yeah, that's kinda a big deal. The aer required to form it is so immense, it would have drained a whole krene and then gone on to leech everything in about a seventeen mile radius completely dry. That isn't natural." The young mage tapped a finger against her forearm before adding, "There's only one blastia in the _world _complex enough to use a core like this."

Karol leant forward to guess, but his stomach flipped weirdly and he abruptly shut his mouth. Yuri was thinking along the same lines, in anycase.

"Zaudé," he predicted roughly.

"Right. It's a component of Brave Vesperia. I mean, it's not _the_ barrier blastia itself, but it's a part of the mechanism at Zaudé," Rita replied. She squirmed before confessing, "I haven't figured out _which_ part yet. It was sent with the letters, so my guess is that your assassins _wanted _us to figure it out."

"Yes," Estelle said carefully. "The krityan man said that the core activated. He said that we had managed to call my brother…" If Rita was surprised, she didn't show it.

"Yeah, when somebody screwed around with my starter node, it caused an overload that produced enough critical mana to get the core functioning again. Just for a moment. The bad news is that its purpose is completely beyond me at this point, so _what_ it did in that half-second... Well, your guess is as good as mine."

"I don't like the sound of that. Tell me there's good news," Flynn sighed. The Commandant was blurring slightly in Karol's vision. When he tried to focus on anyone further than a few feet away, his stomach lurched.

"The _good_ news," Rita went on, "is that I'll know exactly what it does when I can see the blastia housing it belonged to. Whatever you guys decide to do, I'm going to Zaudé."

"I'm going too," Estelle blurted out. "If- If what that man Waylin said is true, then I need to know!"

"Woah, hold on there princess," Raven managed, twisting around to level an incredulous gaze on her. "Doncha think that finding out who's tryin' ta kill ya is more important than what that core is?"

"I agree," Flynn replied sluggishly. He opened his mouth to continue, paused, and then cast an odd look at Witcher. The young mage haltingly nodded and pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"Yes, it sounds to me like you're no closer to knowing who is doing this, or why," he said with barely a stutter, stepping forward.

"Oh, that's not true."

They all turned to the window.

Judith was standing by the glass with her hands behind her back, face tilted up. Every so often her head would turn slightly, as if she were trying to catch minute sounds with her elegant ears.

After an awkward stretch of silence, Karol managed to swallow past his tight throat.

"Judith?" he asked. He regretted it immediately. His stomach flipped violently and, so that no one would see, he dropped his hands slowly under the table and pressed them against his gut. He could almost feel it churning through his gloves.

Judith turned to look at him, mildly surprised.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry. I'm a little distracted."

"It sounds like you know something," Yuri said in a rough voice.

"Well, I can't tell you anything about Zaudé, but you mentioned that your krityan man escaped on an entelexeia?"

"How can you be sure it wasn't just a monster?" Witcher wondered, before Yuri could reply.

"It was no monster. I think his name is Izuna," Judith said. Karol blinked his eyes furiously, partly from shock, partly because Judith had become a vague blue blob by the window.

She shifted, almost uncomfortably, and then continued.

"He was one of the entelexeia that lived with the people on Mt. Temza, before the war," came her explanation, simple and casual. "We were both kids, of course, and I didn't know everyone that lived there. When Ba'ul and I couldn't find another survivor from the city... Well, I just assumed the entelexeia were killed along with the kritya."

"A lot of 'em were taken down on that mountain," Raven agreed softly with a grim expression. Judith dipped her head gracefully at that, both an acknowledgement and an apology.

"I wonder if Waylin isn't a survivor from Temza as well?" Estelle wondered aloud, distractedly. She was peering at Yuri with a worried frown; the swordsman was glaring at the tabletop with a fixed expression on his face.

"That's a whole lot of speculation," Rita scoffed. "I'll stick to my blastia investigation, thanks."

"The New Order will solve this mystery, just watch Rita Mordio!" Witcher declared, not to be outdone.

There was a soft creak. Estelle had half risen from her chair, sudden concern in her face, and she was staring at Yuri openly. He was swaying. With a disgusted, disoriented look, he blinked his eyes slowly and deliberately which only made his swaying worse.

"Wha's wrrng Yuri," Flynn slurred, and he was sweating so much now that his hair clung to his skin.

"Something's wrong," Judith said suddenly, crimson eyes sharp.

The door burst open with a crash and Sodia, her eyes alight with rage, fell into the room like an avenging angel. The soldiers around the edge all snapped a salute and it made the walls look like they were warping. Karol choked on his nausea, vision spinning.

"Sir!" she shouted, voice echoing oddly. "Sir, I located the infiltrator!"

The Commandant surged to his feet. He struggled to stay there. Flynn swayed on the spot for a moment, expelled a string of mangled syllables at them and then simply keeled over one arm of the chair and into Witcher's stunned arms. The unexpected motion made Karol's head whirl so sickeningly he opened his mouth to groan. The sound bubbled.

"K-Karol!"

He had no idea who said it. Light was suddenly too bright and the room was swinging and tumbling like a boulder down a landslide. He had no idea if he was still in his chair. Karol forced his legs to lift him.

They lifted his stomach instead and he vomited so suddenly and explosively that it seared his nose on the way out. His head rang like a struck bell when it met the table top.

"Men to the city exits! No one leaves! Witcher, get the healers! You, open the windows!" the shrill voice could only be Sodia, and why couldn't she _keep it down_?

"The Commandant was poisoned!" a man shrieked.

"Don't panic, you idiots! Someone get the boy Capel!"

Karol weakly pushed more bile from his guts when hands pulled him from where he'd fallen. He had almost found a safe spot on the table; the world punished him for moving by bouncing like a yo-yo around his ears. Something dashed at his mouth. His head was tilted.

"Stay with me, kid, keep breathin' through your mouth. Easy now, don't rush."

Raven sounded like a dad.

"Estelle, Flynn is convulsing!"

"I-I'll be right there, Yuri is-"

"_Estelle!_"

Wow, Rita was mad. Karol tried to speak up, but only bubbles and foam got past his lips. The mess was wiped away again. The world, thankfully, was no longer rocking from one direction to the next in sick, angry arcs. Karol was almost relieved that he felt himself swirl and circle down a spiral, sliding off the edges of peace like a soap-sud curling down a drain.

_I'm going to die, _he realised, but the thought only brought him relief. That wasn't right. That wasn't who we was. Karol was trying to valiantly wrest his will to live from the delirium when unconsciousness crept up behind him and swallowed him whole.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: I had such fun with the beginning of this chapter! I apologise if it was a little jarring - I opted to skip forward through some character fluff to reach the meeting. Character fluff will relocate to prt 2.  
Also, Flynn rawks.**


	10. Our Unspoken Truths prt2

**10: Our Unspoken Truths prt 2**

.  
_oOo_  
.

It had been a hectic set of days in the quarantined Heliord. It ended with a funeral.

Estelle stumbled upon the view from the second tier of the city when she was making the lunch rounds, not quite sure what she was seeing at first. The funeral pyre had been thrown together on the lowest level, as far away from the living quarters as possible. Small things, mostly kitchen goods and equipment, were stacked on the careless pile of wood.  
There was no way to tell what had soaked up the unidentified poison and what hadn't.

Eventually the medics and nurses carried out the sad bundle that was the poisoner, tossed the body onto the pyre and retreated hurriedly as if they might fall ill at any time. The body was as contaminated as the tables and tools from the kitchen, and to Estelle's horror, just as worthless.

The man had been an amateur from Dahngrest, guildless and guileless; he had been underpaid enough that he had confessed everything the minute Sodia had dragged him from his cell and into questioning. He didn't know what the poison was. He didn't know who it was for… only that a woman had given him the vial, and her instructions had been explicit.  
And then he had died in the night, and no one knew how the poison had gotten into his system.

Estelle murmured a prayer for the poor nameless soul. With the wind still blowing a gauzy mist across the city, the soldiers were forced to light the pyre with oil and magic. The violence of the flames felt unnecessary.

Estelle turned away. It wasn't until then that she remembered why she was lingering on the second tier of the city.  
Yuri's dinner was probably already cold. It was exactly the sort of hearty, tasteless, sick-bed mush that he hated, and Estelle had carried it around the fort once already, passing by his door so many times she'd lost count. She looked down at the tray, at the single poppy she'd picked to decorate the unappetising mess, and then up to the infirmary's door.

Another lap would do it.

"He's not in there," a familiar voice offered just as she turned to leave.

Flynn Scifo looked pale, boyish and insufferably proud of himself as he eased himself across the walkway with small, cautious steps. He was wearing the oversized white smock that all of the patients were forced to wear, but he'd cinched it at the waist with his broad Commandant's belt and had managed to pull on a pair of leather boots.

"F-_Flynn!_" Estelle gasped, nearly dropping her tray of cold lunches. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Getting some fresh air," he replied with a bright smile.

"But you should be resting! Your stamina may have to rebuild naturally, that means bed-rest!" He gave her such an amused look that Estelle dropped her eyes to her hands. The laden tray stared back like a relic dredged up from a bog. "…Oh, and a balanced diet. One of these was yours. You really should get back to your room and finish up your… um, I think it's porridge."

Flynn winced, leaning against the stone balustrade.

"I've already eaten," he said with a nervous grin. "Karol and I got something from the mess hall with the rest of the soldiers."

The tray really did drop from her hands this time and hit the stone. Gruel and dry bread flew in all directions.

"_Karol_? B-But he shouldn't be out of bed at all! He was - He almost- W-Where is he? Doesn't anyone just let themselves mend anymore?"

Flynn backed up a step, sufficiently chastised and apologetic.

"He's with Rita..? Honestly Estellise, he was doing better than I was. The young bounce back very quick, and Karol is strong for his age."

Estelle ducked down to gather up the decimated mess of her lunch tray. The hearty, nutritious grey slurry was spattered across the stone in a way that made Estelle queasy to look at. It reminded her of poor Karol.

In the end it had been decided that the curry being prepared in the kitchens was the source of the poison. While Estelle had been healing Rita's seared eyes, Yuri, Karol and Flynn had stolen a quick lunch before heading down to the sparring yards. The older men had been too busy with their fight to eat much, but Karol was a growing boy… He'd managed to cram in seconds before the meeting had drawn them from the practice yards and into the tactics room.

He had nearly died.

Estelle still shook at the thought of it. Having Yuri and Flynn brought so low was bad enough… But there were some things in life that she would never forget, and the image Karol heaving up foam that was pink with blood would haunt her for the rest of her life.  
She plucked the hospital bowls from the mess on the stone and gave them a small shake before stacking them. She was looking for a distraction, and she found it half drowning in the gruel.

The poppy bent under the weight of soggy oats when she lifted it, its vivid red lost in the grey.

"I don't even know why I… I mean, Yuri doesn't_ like_ flowers," she sighed, standing slowly.

"You care about him."

Estelle's eyes shot up. Flynn was staring at the poppy; the sight of the flower had brought a strange and hopeful smile to his face that turned encouraging when he met her gaze. The look reminded her so much of Ioder's attempt at cunning that it made her blush furiously.

"You too, Flynn? I mean, of c-course I do, all of my friends are dear to me, but-"

"A friend, of course!" Flynn burst out hastily. They stared at one other awkwardly.

"I care very much… about my friends," Estelle said haltingly, fidgeting. Flynn had bent forward into a half-bow, blue eyes locked on the ground as if it were the most interesting set of cobbles he'd ever seen.

"Yes, I… I understand."

The silence transcended awkward and knit itself into something else entirely.

"You… Haven't paid him a visit yet?"

"N-Not yet."

"I see… I think Yuri would be… happy if you did, your Highness," he managed next, strained. Estelle winced.

"I-I can't," she replied.

"Even if he doesn't eat his lunch I still thi-"

"He hates me!" Estelle burst out, then slapped her gloves over her mouth. There, she said it. No taking it back, now.  
It was the hardest confession of her life, and Flynn was horrified.

"Yuri doesn't _hate _you, Estellise! How can you think that?" he admonished with enough passion to stun her into silence. She didn't know what to say.  
Flynn had apparently stunned himself speechless; a strange series of emotions battled for dominance on his pale face. Exasperation won in the end and he leant upon the stone barrier that skirted the walkway.  
He cast her a contemplative look before shifting his cerulean gaze out over the misty view.

"I'm sorry," Estelle told him genuinely, unsure why he was so upset. "It's just that Yuri hasn't said a word since the woods… and he was so _angry _that I hadn't shared the letters…"

Flynn held up a hand to silence her.

"It's not like that, Estellise… Yuri's just too big of a fool to be clearer. If he's as angry as you say, it's probably at the men who are doing this."

Estelle dropped her eyes. Yuri _had _been very protective lately, even if she had been making that task harder than it had to be.

"You mustn't expect too much from him, your highness," Flynn suddenly sighed. He propped both elbows up on the stone, shook his head and then added, "For such a brave man, he's never shown much initiative. Especially when it comes to self-gain."

"I don't understand," she confessed.

"No, I suppose not." Flynn looked out over the shrouded city forlornly. After a long silence, he offered her a lopsided smile and took one of her hands in his. He tucked it over the crook of his arm.

"Flynn?"

"Walk with me, your Highness. Allow me to explain something to you about Yuri Lowell…"

.  
_oOo_  
.

Judith had wandered through every street, corridor, walkway and boulevard of the quarantined Heliord before her thoughts finally wrenched themselves away from memories of Mt. Temza.  
There was still Izuna to ponder, and Ba'ul was approaching the city on a weather front that would sweep the mist from Heliord… But with Raven this hard to find, it meant he was doing his best to stay lost.

Judith liked a challenge. She also suspected why the old spy was being so elusive, and it was time for him to be _un_-lost, whether he liked it or not.

It took Judith the better part of the afternoon to actually do good on her promise to locate their missing companion, and she'd crossed paths with the baffled Karol and angry Rita more than once. In the end, the search finished in a small plaza that was one of the more scenic in the upper tiers of the city, decked with gardens to attract tourists. She arrived alone, glanced across the decorative boulevard and she smiled when she found what she was looking for poking out from the lush gardens.

A pair of black boots, crossed at the ankles and tapping to an unheard rhythm.

"You're not _hiding, _are you?" Judith asked aloud, peering around the hedgerow. The boots didn't stop their cheerful beat but she saw Raven sit up slightly from his spineless slouch on the park bench.

"Never from you, Judy-baby," he sang back, a silly grin plastered across his face. Judith pushed through the thick gardens to join him.

"… And the rest of Brave Vesperia?" she prompted after a pause.

When he fell back into his slouch and said nothing, her smile became sly.

"Karol and Rita are looking for you, you know," she added.

"Yeaah, it's too much work keepin' up with you younguns," he drawled, flippant.

Judith studied the slovenly shape half hidden by the lush foliage, his foot tapping that little bit faster and posture somehow worse than ever.

She decided then to stir up some trouble.

"You're not going to run out on the guild again, are you? You know, Estelle hasn't seen you in a while."

"Oh, that poor girl!"

"Neither has Yuri, of course. Some might think you were doing this deliberately."

"Meetin's aren't my thing, darlin'. Can ya blame me?"

"It's not just the _meetings_. It's been so long since we were all together in one place that I don't think it's happened since... when was it last?" Judith tapped her chin. She couldn't stop the smile on her lips from turning cruel when she concluded, "Oh, I suppose since you started avoiding Rita last year."

There was nothing more satisfying to her in that moment than the way his foot abruptly stopped tapping.

"I think it was Karol's fourteenth birthday, we had that party on the beach," she continued cheerfully. "That _was _fun, wasn't it?"

"Judith, sweetheart," Raven wheedled, rocking forward suddenly to rest his elbows on his knees. "I'm touched that you're keepin' track, but if you're tryin' ta confuse this old man, it's workin'."

"That's funny, I thought I was being very clear. Are you going to tell me _why _you run away at the first sight of her, or should I start coming up with ideas of my own?"

For such a blank face, Raven certainly managed to look horrified.

"Uh, not sure where you're goin' with this."

Well, she did warn him.

"I was merely pointing out that you're acting just like a man who is in love but has decided to hide it."

The silence she got for that one spoke volumes. Raven summoned a vague smile from god-knows-where, but his eyebrow quirked in a way that disrupted the expression weirdly. Judith wasn't fooled.

"C'mon Judy-baby, ya know I only have eyes for you," he deflected, lewd and obnoxious. He was easily the best liar amongst all of her friends, but even he was beginning to sweat bullets under her gaze at this point.

"Could I be wrong?" she wondered in mock curiosity. "It's just that Rita was complaining about the quietta slipping its bridle, and _I _thought that even you couldn't manage something that stupid unless it was deliberate, and then I wondered why on earth you'd miss the opportunity to have such a pretty girl sitting so soundly in your lap-"

"Now hold on there, sweetheart'," Raven croaked.

"-but then you've been trying _so _hard to keep your distance, and a quietta ride would have been _awfully _close, so you see there really was only one possible explanation."

There was the barest of pauses. Raven broke out into a pained grimace.

"My darlin' Judith, that's not fair," he sighed. "There's somethin' ta be said for women's intuition, and you got it in spades. How's a man ta cope?"

"You might as well give up," she replied pleasantly. His grimace became a lewd grin.

"We'd make a great team, you and me. How 'bout it?"

"I think not."

"It'd make this old man's life a _lot _easier, let me tell ya," he said next with a strained expression.

"Oh, Raven. I don't think your heart would be in it," she replied deftly. With a delighted smile, he rocked back melodramatically with both hands pressed over his metal heart.

"The agony of unrequited love!" he moaned.

"Speaking of unrequited love, I don't think you should be missing any more meetings or slipping any more bridles," Judith said mercilessly. "I don't see what's so bad about caring for Rita. I think it's sweet. And if you don't stop doing such a good job convincing her otherwise, you're going to lose more than her friendship to this."

To her great surprise, Raven smiled at her.

"Don't see what's so bad about it, huh?" he asked her quietly. For one distressing moment, Judith felt like she was looking at a complete stranger. She frowned at him.  
He had the decency to cast his gaze aside; the archer slotted one finger into his ear, gave it a distracted waggle and then the stranger was gone.

Judith appraised the scruffy old spy analytically. Unlike dear Karol or sweet Estelle, she knew better than to try and actually force Raven's hand. He was evasive, contrary, and he knew when he was being shepherded…  
But that didn't make it any less frustrating.

Foiled, Judith took her revenge by smiling at him sweetly, clasping her hands behind her back and calling out loudly,

"Rita? Karol? I found him! We're over here!"

He stared at her openly as the unmistakable sound of their youngest companions arguing grew closer.

"You are a cold, frightening woman, madame," he said seriously. She tipped her head at that, smiling even as her guild-leader rounded the corner.

"Jeez, you've been here all this time? Raven, didn't you hear us calling?" Karol managed, looking exasperated and thin and drawn. He was doing a good job hiding his poor health, but no amount of bravado in the world could fill his sunken cheeks just yet. Raven shot Judith one last look before rising slowly to his feet.

"You were callin'? Sorry son, ya caught this old man nappin'," he lied easily.

"You're hopeless," Karol sighed. There was an awkward silence as they all waited for him to catch his short, rattling breath. Embarrassed, the guild leader grinned sheepishly and nudged the small figure beside him in the ribs. Rita jerked, startled out of the blank stare she'd levelled on Raven.

It was her turn to look uncomfortable.

"Go on Rita, what do you saaay?" Karol prompted with a smirk. Rita didn't wear embarrassment well; she had her hands on her hips with every ounce of her Mordio confidence, but Judith could see discomfort and rage bubbling just beneath the surface. Eventually the mage ran her hand through her hair, rubbed uncomfortably at the back of her neck afterwards and lifted her eyes.

Raven couldn't have looked more nervous.

"Just for your information, I could have made it on my own, you know. And you didn't _have to_, but you did anyway, and… And I _suppose _that deserves a little… thanks, Old Man," she ground out.

"D-Don't mention it," Raven replied, transfixed. Rita nodded as if it was a job well done.

And then she strode up and swung a full-bodied punch that launched the spy so hard into the bench that it left the ground and rolled into the garden beyond.

"And that's for ditching me the minute we got here!" Rita snapped, hands on her hips.

"_Wha_? Nonono," Karol babbled, shocked. "_Not like that_! We talked about how to show gratitude, Rita!"

Rita pulled a face at him. She opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, then simply turned and strode away with a furious gesture at Karol that made him cower. The guild leader remained low until she was safely out of sight.

"… Wow, why do girls hate you so much?" he eventually managed.

"You've got a lot ta learn, young master Capel," came Raven's wheeze from amongst the gardenias. "Women show their affection in strange and mysterious ways."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Karol replied with a grimace.

"Yes, follow that logic," Judith said shrewdly, "and Rita must _love _you."

Karol snorted, completely unaware of the brittle silence that had fallen over the decimated garden.

Judith stepped delicately over the crushed flower-bed and peered down at her older friend.

"No more missed meetings," she ordered cheerfully.

"Your wish is my command," Raven replied dryly. "And I'm just bleedin' a little inta my internal organs, here. No big deal. Thanks fer askin'."

"Take your time," Judith replied magnanimously.

She felt so much better when she left the boulevard, almost humming with cheer again. Izuna's echo had dredged up dark and distracting memories in her, and Judith had never liked brooding. It didn't suit her, and it didn't suit Ba'ul.  
Helping her friends with their assortment problems was hugely therapeutic.

She decided then to make a point of stirring up trouble more often.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Much later on and on the other side of the city, Yuri was freezing himself stupid.

His feet had gone numb some time ago, but there was no way in hell he was going back to the infirmary. Sick beds weren't his thing. Having nothing to do but think about assassins and Estelle and… and Flynn's idiot opinions… and… and Estelle, well, that wasn't Yuri's thing either.  
Three days of bed-rest had nearly killed him. Hard bunks and bad food aside, he didn't know what was worse, Flynn visiting him every second hour of the day or the fact that Estelle hadn't visited him at all.

_You always were blind!_

Yuri shuddered, a little from the deathly cold, mostly from his guilt. The weather change had finally flown in off the fords an hour ago, sweeping the waterfall's mist from the city with its icy breeze and leaving everyone in Heliord exposed to the frigid, starry night. He couldn't remember being this cold. Even the Blade Drifts were better than this. He had changed into his travelling gear before escaping his hospital cell in a bid to shake free the rampaging nurses, but even those familiar layers did nothing to stave off the chill.

There was no way in hell he was going back. The only thing to do was to keep moving.

A familiar bark split the crystal air. Yuri looked up to find Repede standing by the street corner, tail low and straight. With a smile, the swordsman tromped his way over, trying to hammer feeling back in his toes while he was at it. He was a few feet away when Repede suddenly turned his head.

"Repede? Did you find hi- Yuri!" Estelle was a warm vision of pink in the cold, grey night. Repede huffed and sat down with a _whump_, face turned aside.

"Uh," Yuri managed through his teeth.

She _did _look upset. Damn Flynn. Damn him to hell and back again.

Despite looking like the world was falling to pieces, Estelle rushed forward in a wave of warmth.

"Yuri, you must come quick! Something's wrong!" she burst out, reaching forward. She hissed and recoiled suddenly.

"Es-s-stelle?" he attempted, but his chattering teeth dissected her name up into pitiful portions.

It wasn't until she carefully tried again that Yuri realised she'd tried to sweep up his hands in hers. They were so numb he hadn't felt it. A shiver tingled down his spine. It had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the way she rubbed his hands in hers, then ran her warmed gloves briskly from his wrists, up his arms and then finally over his shoulders and to his neck.

Wow.

"_You're freezing,_" Estelle managed, stunned. She knocked the breath out of his lungs when she threw her arms around him and, pinning his against his sides, she squeezed so hard her warmth was forced through his skin in waves.

That she looked, smelled and felt so good just made him feel worse.

He was struggling to find the right words to use when Repede trotted over, sat on his foot and shoved his muzzle into Yuri's cold hand.

"I'm alright, Re-p-pede," Yuri muttered disjointedly. He'd been planning on saying more, but the stuttering was just embarrassing. Repede picked up on the frustration immediately and whined, unconvinced.

"This is why I kept insisting on bed-rest, honestly…" she murmured with exasperation. He tried to scoff, but his teeth chattered. Yuri gave her an awkward pat.

"… I'm so blind," Estelle whispered against his chest.

Yuri looked down guiltily at her choice of words, confused. His chin bumped the crown of her head.

"I should have realised. It wasn't just about the letters, I understand now," she continued softly, sorrowfully. "I should have been honest from the beginning, we're friends after all …"

She squeezed suddenly. Yuri gave one final shudder in her arms as she warmed the last of the ice from his core and he exhaled, ruffling her hair. It was Estelle's turn to shiver, and she lifted her face to look at him.

"And even though I wasn't truthful from the start, you must know that I trust you. If you need to fight my battles because you can't show your friendship in any other way then that's fine, because I do trust you! Please never doubt that!"

Yuri lifted his strained grin to the stars. Even with Estelle's ever-present good-will smothered over the top, he could recognise that patronizing assessment anywhere.

… _Dammit, Flynn._

Estelle lifted herself up on her tippy-toes to catch his eye back.

"But it's alright, Yuri," she said seriously. "My wish will surely come true soon. I'm sorry for making you work so hard."

She was so close, her face so bright. He had the sudden urge to kiss her, and the strength of it froze him in place.

"Don't be," he said instead, confused. Where had _that _come from? She smiled, and the urge returned so strong he rocked forward unconsciously.

Repede lifted his head suddenly, aware of the change.

"Oh, apologies can wait!" Estelle exclaimed, leaping back. He had been leaning on her without realising it; Yuri stumbled without her support and made Repede snap out a bark when he stood on his paw. Estelle steadied him but tugged impatiently at his elbow. "Please Yuri, you have to come see this."

"See what?" he managed. He was jerked forward and then dragged down the street.

It was a winding trip through and over several tiers of the city, always getting higher, always going west. By the time the streets went from empty to packed with nervous, murmuring people, Yuri realised something was wrong.

The crowds grew crushing. They had to fight through the anxious mob.

"You can't see it from here," Estelle explained when Yuri growled at the clamouring. He was too out of breath to ask for more details, so he silently trailed along on the end of her hand.

Eventually they broke through a defensive ring of soldiers and into the eerie quiet of the major observation deck that looked out over the plains. They'd cordoned off the best vantage point out of the city. Yuri was surprised to find the rest of Brave Vesperia present. Flynn lingered at the boulevard and motioned them in, pale faced and serious.

Repede whined, long and low. Yuri gave the dog's ears a distracted rub, but when every other head was angled upwards, it was hard not to follow suit…

The star Brave Vesperia was an angry red blot in the night-time sky, too big to be called a star any longer. It burnt the blues and purples around it with a bright corona that made it look like an infected wound in the sky.

"No, I don't like the look of it either," Rita announced to some unasked question. She had wandered over with her research book open before her, several half folded charts and a sextant balanced between the two halves. Witcher was beside her, furiously scribbling into a notebook.

"We noticed it was bigger on our trip here, didn't we Yuri…" Estelle said seriously.

"Uh, yeah. Not that big," Yuri returned.

It was so large that its twinkling looked more like the crackle of flames.

"So it looks like Estelle's assassin was right. I did _something _when that core overloaded," Rita muttered, tapping a pencil against her notes. "What I can't quite figure out is where it's _going_."

"Going?"

"It's definitely off track, that's for sure," Rita explained, pulling a contemplative face.

"How can a dead blastia go anywhere?" Yuri demanded.

Vesperia winked vengefully at them.

"Hey Rita, have you figured it out yet? I don't like this!" Karol called out from across the plaza. He was sitting next to Raven with his back against one of the surrounding walls, head tilted back for the view.

"No I _haven't _figured it out in the five minutes since you asked me last, moron!" the genius mage shouted back.

"How 'bout now?" Raven hollered. Rita threw the sextant at him overarm.

"Not to pile the pressure on," Yuri said softly, still unable to look away from the red blot in the sky, "but I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Listen, it's not that easy to figure out!" she complained. "I'm just as clueless about the core as I was three days ago! I'm not gonna have anything new to tell you until I can see that damn blastia housing at Zaudé!"

"Then what are we waiting for?" Estelle asked quickly. "Let's go to Zaudé. We were debating it anyway, now our decision has been made for us."

She was right. Yuri found his gaze on Flynn; the Commandant had both arms folded and he gave his best friend a curt, decisive nod.

"The New Order will investigate the assassins," he reassured them. "Go." Judith was the next to move, and she leapt down from the stone guardrail gracefully.

"I'll call Ba'ul," was all she offered.

It was a hard to lose sight of the red Brave Vesperia even when the promenade burst into furious activity. The blotch of red was reflected in every eye.

Yuri shivered again.

He knew he had a lot to apologise for, and he knew he had a lot to do if he wanted to make things right with Estelle… but it was getting harder to protect her. He didn't even know where to start when he looked up into the angry red face of her 'brother'.

"We leave within the hour," Yuri decided quietly, but the promise felt hollow.

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_oOo_  
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**A/N: Lots of talking in which Flynn is tactful... And Judith is not.**  
**Thank you everyone for your very kind reviews! I'm just glad people are still interested after all this time! I'll do my best to update quickly, but please check my profile for news and updates. The next few weeks might be strange.**


	11. The Easily Lead

**11: The Easily Lead**

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_oOo_  
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When Rita closed her eyes, all she saw was stars.

It wasn't her field of research. Astronomy was dry and over-documented and, if the bed of charts she had pinned to the deck of the _Fiertia _meant anything, pretty much done. All the stars in the Terca Lumereis sky had been mapped out years ago. A few aspiring scholars had begun studying orbital courses and function, but it wasn't exactly a glamorous topic.  
Not like blastia, anyway.

Rita rubbed her stinging eyes and browsed over her notes for what felt like the hundredeth time. She'd already made adjustments to a few of the astronomers' bungled physics. She definitely had to rewrite most of everything written about Brave Vesperia, as every researcher seemed to think it was a very, very large entity seen at some unspecified, but immense, distance. It wasn't either of those things. The blastia had done a good job of hiding its elliptical orbit from amateurish eyes.

Rita blinked, saw stars, and then decided to take a break.

She had been lying on her stomach over the southern hemisphere's nautical starchart, and she lifted herself up on aching arms to ease herself into a cross-legged sit. Someone had put a cup of coffee on one corner of the map. It was cold when she drank from it, but she'd swallowed worse.

No-one had noticed her stir aside from Tokunaga. He waved at her with a big toothy grin from behind the wheel, and Rita wondered how long he had been watching her. She waved back awkwardly until she realised it was a stupid thing to do and then flapped a hand instead. He laughed.

Karol was sitting against the redundant ceres blastia with elbows on his knees and his head bowed deeply. He was snoring loud enough to be heard over the wind. Rita grudgingly allowed him the noise-pollution; she knew how close he had come to checking in permanently, even if he didn't. And even if she _had _been heartless enough to kick him out of his snore, there was Estelle to get through first.  
The princess was sitting primly beside Karol, looking pleased, relieved and very much like a mother.

Rita shifted her gaze. Sure enough, Yuri wasn't too far away. He was propped against the ship's railing casually, Repede at his crossed feet and arms folded loosely over his chest. He probably thought that no one could tell that he was watching Estelle from underneath his lashes. Moron.

Rita took another gulp of her cold coffee and swivelled where she sat. Off to port, Brave Vesperia was a big purple bruise in the blue sky that was perfectly visible in the morning light. Rita's eyes slid off it, too weary to deal with what it might mean.  
She rotated again, this time to face the prow. Judith was nowhere to be seen. What the genius mage _could_ see was just a slither of purple past the cabin and over the bow. She knew that Raven liked being up high, sure, but lounging on the bowsprit? That was just his special brand of stupidity.

Rita choked down the dregs of her cold coffee and glared suspiciously at the distant figure.

She couldn't see much from her blanket of star-charts, but what she could see looked perfectly stupid and typically unkempt and utterly _Raven_. Nothing out of the ordinary there… But that was because couldn't see his face from where she sat. That's where it got weird. It was his face that was all wrong – a heavy shadow in his eyes when he bothered to meet her gaze - and _how_ was it that no one else had noticed?

It couldn't have been more obvious to Rita. She'd seen it the minute she'd clapped her healed eyes on him. It was bad enough that she had been barely able to focus on the mystery of the hoplon core because of his weird change in attitude… But it _annoyed _her that Raven's face was distracting enough derail her study of the moving Brave Vesperia.

Rita narrowed her eyes. Problems, mysteries and puzzles were the pulse of her life's work and she loved them no matter how baffling… but this one sat all wrong even for her analytical mind.

She was glaring angrily into the empty recesses of her coffee mug when Judith descended down the ship harness in a series of impossibly elegant swings.

The krityan alighted on the wood with a dainty _click _of her heels and called, "We're here everyone."

Rita rubbed the frustration from her bleary eyes and began to fold her chart away. She had just stuffed the wad of paper into her journal when Karol was finally shaken awake. They congregated in unison by the guard-rail as Ba'ul began to descend.

Something was wrong with Zaude.

The forgotten remnants of the blastia frame curved up from the crater as it always had, an elegant ring upon the blue fingers of the ocean. But there was a translucent blue veil that smothered it from the tip of the broken blastia to the edges of the crater in a perfect dome, root like tendrils fanning out into jumbled patterns in the surf. Winking lights orbited the gargantuan device within like stars and planets on a complex orrery. No one could figure out what had happened to the ancient structure. They were looping around in their first circle when Ba'ul let out a thrumming moan that made the air shiver. To the shock of everyone present, the dome warbled back, stars trembling and tendrils stirring the ocean into momentary chaos.  
Krones greeted them.

It took some time to find it, but eventually Ba'ul, the _Fiertia _and everyone on board managed to spot the tiny land shelf that had been the humble dock to Zaude. That Krones had to lift one hem of his translucent membrane for them to reach it was bizarre.

It was strange enough that the giant creature had draped itself over Zaude like a lampshade, but the confusion doubled when the guild stepped off the _Fiertia's _gangplank and heard the murmur of an enormous crowd.

Judith was the first to move away from the ship, all curiosity and no caution. She glanced upwards through the layers of Krones only briefly before taking a step forward and pushing open the Shrine's main entrance.

The sound of the festival was like a battering ram.

It was such a jumble of colour and movement and body inside that it took Rita a moment to realise what she was seeing. By then, the outskirts of the crowd had seen them.

"Child of the Full Moon!"

A cheer went up. Flowers and confetti were thrown. Strings of shells were tossed over their heads and suddenly there was a rush of krityans on all sides that tugged and pushed them away from the dock. Distantly, barely heard over the cheering masses, the Shrine's doors slammed shut.  
Rita tried to turn to see, but the mob was too dense.

Laughing, a young krityan woman with a ceremonial headdress was hoisted up onto her comrades' shoulders and she raised a brightly painted conch-shell to her lips. A rumbling note blasted free with such passion that Repede yelped and skulked to the back of the crowd. It sounded like Ba'ul. It wasn't like they were deliberately being split up, but Rita quickly lost each of her friends into the swaying throng; she heard Karol shouting his objection to the crush, but the murmuring of hundreds of kritya eventually drowned him out.  
Rita was still struggling free of the weird shell decorations when the crowd parted just wide enough for one final gift: a sudden cascade of clingy grey ash rained down on Estelle and the rest of them in a short puff of chaos.

A man in an elaborate robe advanced on them. His antennae were looped and bound in a bizarre knot at the back of his neck, and they bounced gaily when he snatched Estelle's hand up to shake it furiously.

"Welcome," he said, ignoring her polite attempts to snatch her hand back, "to the Enduring Shrine of Zaude! Welcome to the reborn Myorzo! That you came to us is remarkable luck… Fate, even! Welcome, Child of the Full Moon, to our Rite of Passing!"

.  
_oOo_  
.

Estelle could still hear the crowds. The sound was made hollow and bell-like by the curving walls of glass that swept up around them like frozen ripcurls. The underwater city was alive. It was a giant, come-one-come-all party that had been going on for some time. It sounded like such fun.

The muffled festival made the awkward silence within the apartment all the more choking. The quarters themselves were extravagant even by Estelle's cultured standards; the dark, gothic lines of Zaude had always been impressive, but now they were decorated and meshed with the intricate whorls of Myorzo's architecture. The entire back wall was a curved window out into the ocean depths. Expensive tapestries fell in panels over the deep blue.

Looking out into the ocean, Estelle could see that the people of Myorzo had dropped the city pods into the ocean and bridged them with the glass tunnels of Zaude. They looked like submerged Fabergé eggs in the depths, elegant and ethereal... When had this all happened?

She lifted her fine china teacup and took a polite sip. The blend was exquisite.

"I hope the rooms are to your liking," the krityan man said eagerly. He and two of his peers were hovering over the guild like avid fans, all smiles and fidgeting hands.

"Yes, thank you," Estelle replied when her companions said nothing.

"You'll have to excuse the good folk of Myorzo. They do not often have reason for celebration. They do our people a discredit with their... antics."

"What's the occasion?" Judith wondered aloud.

"We celebrate the passing of our Elder," was the enthusiastic response.

The sounds of the festival outside thrummed in through the closed door like joyous music.

"I'm so sorry," Estelle attempted, unsure if it was the correct response. Karol, still looking slightly drawn and pale, ran the back of his glove under his nose and sneezed when he accidentally breathed in the ash there.

"W-We're just here for the Zaude blastia," he sniffled. "We don't mean to intrude on your… funeral party."

The three kritya exchanged looks.

"That's quite impossible."

"Why?" Rita demanded. The first raised a bone-thin finger to point directly upwards.

The apartment's windows were so large they curved up into the ceiling; through it and the ocean, Krones was crushing down on the island and surf so heavily that the blastia was a vague shimmer in the blue. The pause that followed was a delicate one. Rita was clearly angry enough to say exactly what she thought of the entelexeia's choice of pit-stop, and Judith gently leant over and covered the mage's opening mouth with a glove.

"May we request that honourable Krones move? Our mission is important."

The man in the robes grinned suddenly, all good will and cheer.

"Oh, he won't have to _move_," he said happily. "After all, good fortune brought the Child of the Full Moon here to Zaude when we needed her the most!"

They were so eager and happy and hopeful that Estelle's stomach dropped with instant anxiety. There was nothing more she'd have liked than to simply direct Rita at the blastia and have all her problems solved… She tried not to squirm on the expensive couch she sat on. Nothing was ever so simple.

The second man rubbed two hands together enthusiastically.

"With the Elder gone," said he, "it is Krones' wish to become a spirit. We honoured his request by relocating our city here before he was to leave to find you. But here you are! Surely you can see how fortuitous this is?"

"Y-Yes of course… but…" Estelle attempted.

"You have time to enjoy the festivities," the third interrupted. "These customs and rites have only recently been distributed back to our people, so this is a bit new to us as well. We have much to prepare!"

The first nodded hurriedly.

"Naturally we'll need the Child of the Full Moon and… and I see miss Mordio and sister Judith is here also, what luck! Yes, so we'll need to prepare the ceremonial garb and go over the ancient customs before we convert Krones. I… I hope this is alright?"

He said it with such optimism that everyone but Yuri nodded seriously.

The kritya smiled at one another, pleased.

"We'll be back in an hour to discuss the arrangements then. Please settle in," the first man said, dipping a shallow bow before he began to make his way to the door.

"One last question, please," Judith said as they passed. She smiled her silkiest smile and dusted a small amount of ash from her bare thighs. "You mentioned customs. What was that grey dust thrown on us when we arrived?"

The three men couldn't have looked more cheerful.

"You mean the rediscovered Records from Temza! I'll go get my copy for you, sister. Um, the _ash_ is very important, of course. We had the Elder cremated, so we could use his ashes to purify the unclean. I'm sure you were very soiled by the outside world, but that's alright. You're cleansed now." With that, he dipped another bow and swept from the room with his companions. The door closed with a sharp _bang_.

There was a pregnant silence.

"Gotta say, this is the first time I've been covered in _dead guy_," Raven declared conversationally. He swatted puffs of ash off his shoulder before adding, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think our charmin' folk of Myorzo have both oars in the water."

"They're crazy! Oh man, I sneezed the Elder all over the coffee table!" Karol realised with horror. He resumed blowing his nose noisily into a handkerchief, pulling faces of misery and disgust every time he lost too much breath to continue.

Into the silence, the delicate sound of rattling became louder. Estelle wondered what it was until Yuri very gently took her shaking tea-cup and saucer from her.

"A-Ah," was all she managed, not sure where to put her trembling hands.

"What a week," he mused to the room in general, though she had to lean away from him because the ash stood out like snow on his ebony hair.

Over by one of the many plush double beds, Rita was being quite calm about brushing and patting herself free of the cremation ashes; she had taken her goggles off to ruffle a hand quickly through her dusty hair, and it was from under the long fringe of auburn that she cast them all a look.

"Are we actually gonna do this?" she demanded starkly.

"I don't see why not," Judith replied.

"Are you stupid! These people are all kinds of _insane_, that's why not," Rita retorted. "And don't forget the reason we're here!"

"B-but we know the people of Myorzo, Rita," Estelle replied. "They are too nice to mean any real harm… And if Krones wants to go through his evolution into a spirit then it's our solemn _duty_ to help him through the transition safely."

As if Krones had been eavesdropping, he pulsed above them, making the giant blastia disappear for a moment in a crush of baby blue. Rita frowned as she wiggled her goggles back into place.

"You need to look on the bright side," Judith suggested pleasantly.

"Bright sides can wait!" wailed Karol. "I've gotta have a bath!" Yuri hauled him back to the couch by the collar the second he leapt up.

"Hold on there, Captain. Ladies first."

He didn't look at her, but the smile on his lips was all hers. Estelle let out a shaky giggle.

She left them arguing to themselves and ducked into the apartment's lush bathroom before closing the door on the noise. She took a breath to steady herself. The showers were as resplendent as the room outside, and when Estelle leant over the porcelain bathtub to fill it, she let the hot water run until every mirror in the room had completely fogged up.

She had stripped down and was just about to step in when a thought occurred to her. Swathed in steam, Estelle knelt by the filling tub and, hands clasped to her chest, she reverently and respectfully recited the Elder of the Myorzian Kritya his last rites.

Feeling better immediately, she climbed into her first real bath in weeks.

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_oOo_  
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What felt like years later (but was actually closer to three hours) Karol beat out his boredom on the porch with his heels, limbs sticking through the slats of the veranda's railing. He stared glumly through the pickets as if it were a gaol-cell. The festival looked _awesome_.

_Thu-dump. _His heels drummed out a plodding rhythm in the stuffy air. Yuri's impatient _tap-tap-tap _against the apartment wall with his scabbard gave it all a tempo that seemed to stretch the minutes into horrible hours.

The swordsman leant against the space of wall besides the apartment window, a dark slip of languid black against the shell-white. Karol could tell that even he was beginning to tire of the waiting game, because the _tap-tap_-tappingwas slowly getting faster. Repede's ears twitched at the sound so regularly that they were in a constant state of flicker. Raven was perfectly still on his perch atop the porch railing, but the slight frown of his face was stretched and strained.

The constant murmur of conversation within the apartment rose sharply, suddenly. They all turned to stare expectantly at the door.

There was a hinge-rattling thump and crash that sounded too much like Rita, followed by a long, delicate silence afterwards that was the very essence of Estelle. The smooth, surreal return of the murmured conversation felt very much like Judith, and then that was that.

Nothing else happened. Yuri heaved an exasperated sigh, gave the apartment wall a kick with his heel and then returned to the _tap-tap-_tapping_._ Karol resumed swinging his legs, subconsciously timing it to Yuri's footfalls.

"Oh fer cryin' out loud… Settle down already, you're makin' me nervous," Raven complained from his seat on the banister. Yuri grinned, mocking.

"I couldn't be _more_ settled, Old Man," he replied. "Hell, I could keep this up for hours and hours, right Karol?"

"Leave me out of this," Karol mumbled, because he recognised when Yuri was picking fights out of boredom when he saw it.

"Right, forget I said anythin'," Raven muttered. Repede relocated his pipe to the other side of his jaw and spared them a disparaging snort.

The sound of their combined impatience was lost for a moment when a distant cheer went up. Karol leant forward, straining to see what had caused the excitement. The people of Myorzo had set up a large stage in the centre of the dome, wide and low and strung with lines of painted shells. It was bowing under the weight of the mass of dancing couples. Something good must have happened; they all stopped their graceful spinning and applauded instead. The crowds that flowed past the stage in a constant tide paused to cheer as well. Everyone seemed to be carrying food or prizes and there was a krityan kid over there with a stuffed toy the size of Karol's _head._

Oh man, the festival looked _awesome_.

It was so bright and colourful and energetic and _nice _that Heliord felt like another world. The explosions and mad rush from Dahngrest could have been years ago, the poisoning at Heliord a bad dream, and the sight of the angry and enormous Vesperia was a distant memory. Karol tried to care that it was burning a strange route through the sky, but the only stars to be seen under the ocean were the glittering lanterns visible through the glass and blue water.

There was a collective groan of relief when the apartment door finally opened and the rest of the guild stepped out onto the porch. Rita was the last, and she still had a hand on the door-knob when one of the krityan men lingering in the apartment tried to call them back.

"Are you _sure _you understand? We can go over it one more ti-"

Rita slammed the door in his face.

"'Are you sure you understand'," she echoed venomously. "Who the hell does he think he is? Does he even _know _who he's talking to?"

"He was just trying to be helpful, Rita," Estelle said calmly, soothingly.

"He wasted three hours of my _life_, is what he did," she replied haughtily. There was a small pause when the mage began to tug at the little notebook dangling from her front. She was scowling down at her own jacket when she added, "And if he thinks I'm going to change my clothes just to run a damn formula, he can go ahead and die!"

"About time you guys were done," Yuri said expressively. Estelle smiled ruefully.

She didn't need to say anything; when all eyes turned to Judith, the krityan was holding a huge, elaborate scroll casing and had it partially open already. If it was a copy of the Records and customs that the people of Myorzo seem to be so obsessed with, Karol realised that three hours was a run down. The texts were _huge_.

Judith was so engrossed in the elaborate casing in her hands that she didn't notice their attention. Every so often, she would frown darkly and twist the strange contraption that unfurled the scroll a little further.

They waited, but it didn't look like she was coming up from her studies anytime soon.

"Okay, so can we go to the festival now?" Karol asked desperately. Rita had finally snapped the miniature notebook from its dangling chain when she shot a glare at him.

"Only _you _would think of having fun at a time like this," she said. "If these amateurs think I can't investigate the blastia from down here, they're wrong. Any idiot knows that the secondary systems on colossus scale blastia are in the basement. Come on, let's go."

Estelle had been edging towards the steps down from the apartment – her hands were an excited jumble at her chest - and she froze abruptly with one foot on the first step. Her face fell into a picture of guilt and disappointment. Through a pout, she mumbled, "Yes… yes, Rita is right. We have very serious things to attend to. We should investigate the blastia and solve the mystery of Brave Vesperia. F-Festivities can wait."

A loud ringing echoed in over the murmur of the crowd, bell-like and exultant; whatever had caused it made another wave of cheering rise up from the celebrating throng. Everyone squinted wistfully into the roving crowds. Rita was the only one that glared.

"They better not have moved anything important with their dumb celebration," she said with a threat in her voice. "It's going to be a _pain_ trying to find anything in this mess!"

She was already stomping down the steps.

Karol remembered how weak he'd become when his attempt at getting up almost failed. When Raven hoisted him soundly to his feet by the back of the collar, he gave Karol's shoulder a fatherly pat before leaving it there to secretly steady him across the patio and down the steps.

Rita's determined stride was already bringing her towards the crowd. It was an effort to keep up.

"Man, why's Rita so ang... I mean, angrier than usual?" Karol mumbled.

Raven didn't reply despite the knowing expression on his face, and the archer's hand slowly tightened on Karol's shoulder until he had brought them both down to a snail's pace.

"Hey, we'll lose them in these crowds!"

"Perish the thought," was Raven's suddenly cheery reply. "They should know the sick and the elderly hafta take it slow."

It took a little longer than expected, but Karol watched the rest of his guild eventually disappear into the krityan crowds. It wasn't until a few more minutes after that that Raven finally dropped the hand from Karol's shoulder and gave him a hearty slap on the back instead.

"Well wouldja look at that, we got left behind. How cruel! …So, where to first, boss?"

Karol gaped up at his older friend, and then down to where he'd lost sight of the others. All he could see were happy, laughing people, and trying to remain guilty and indignant in the face of that was just too hard. The music from the dance stage changed from a breezy waltz to a bouncy foxtrot.

Karol faltered, but eventually managed a shamefaced grin.

"Uh, maybe down the west tunnel? I coulda sworn I saw a noodle eating competition back there and I'm _starved_."

The last of his guilt melted away the minute the crowd swept him up in a tide of energy and joy. Rita had everything under control anyway, right? And they'd probably given the people trying to kill them the slip back at Heliord.

When a drunk lady with flowers in her hair gave him a hug for no reason at all, Karol decided that there was no way _anyone _could be depressed in the reborn Myorzo.

Nothing bad could happen here, he thought, and with the smell of warm beer and flowers still in his nose, Karol believed it.

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_oOo_  
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**A/N: Fiiinally at Zaude. Answers will have happened before we leave. Thank you for your patience (and reviews!).  
In other news, I'm furiously trying to write ahead so as to go back to a weekly update, but I'm not so sure how that'll go. Wish me luck!**


	12. Layers and Masks

**12: Layers and Masks**

**.**  
_oOo_  
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Krones was old. He was older than Phaeroh, older than Myorzo, and he was older than some of the largest continents that made up Terca Lumereis. He was _so _old that his thoughts ran in a slow but complex narrative that was different from every other intelligent life form on the planet. Even the other entelexeia struggled to follow his weavings, and the Elder of the kritya had spent his entire life adapting.  
They had been comrades, the Elder and Krones. Krones had turned his thoughts linear and fleet for his friend, and the Elder had slowed his down and muddled them up. It was a compromise made out of friendship, and it had worked.

With the Elder dead, there was a lot of sharp, quick minds trying to unravel his musings and there were a lot of questions that he struggled to find sharp, quick answers for.

_How long until you leave, _was a popular question. _Where will we go_, was equally common. Krones wearied of _Where did we come from_, because there were no recent words to explain. What would it have mattered anyway? The landmass had split and reformed.  
The newest question came from a mind possibly the sharpest yet, and Krones was intrigued.

It had always been difficult focusing on anything smaller than the city he had swallowed all those years ago (the Elder being the only exception) but Krones tried now. He rippled with the effort of turning each ring and tendril of his mind down to the brother and sister slowly circling the skies.

The brother was patiently waiting for a reply, but the sister asked the question again, just in case Krones had forgotten.  
He hadn't. He searched for a sharp, quick answer.

.  
_oOo_  
.

The sky was as blue as the first forget-me-not, a dazzling picture frame to the unfurled Lost Records. The brightness almost made the words disappear into silhouette, but that didn't stop Judith from holding them up into the glare.

She had given the others the slip the minute they'd stepped into the bustling river of people below. They wouldn't have needed her anyway, and Judith had a lot of thoughts in her head that she was struggling to find a place for. It was easier to think up high, and there was nowhere higher or better suited for a deep ponder than the soft, downy fur of Ba'ul's forehead. He cut slow and unobtrusive circles into the blue sky, calming them both.

Judith felt Krones carefully arranging his thoughts for her. She left him to it while she returned to her study.

This paragraph surprised her as well. She tilted the scroll ever so slightly to let the sun touch its script, wondering if maybe her eyesight failed her after all. It hadn't.

"Another ritual about bonding. I wonder why the Elder never taught me such things," she mused aloud, her gaze lodging on the word "_bond" _until it lost all of its meaning. Ba'ul reminded her why the Elder ever did anything hurtful.

Of course, thought Judith. Because he forgot.

She wasn't sure she liked what she was reading, in anycase. The records and customs were old and, as far as she could tell, genuine... but it reeked of a time gone by when people did very stupid things for very stupid reasons. That the people doing the stupid things were the original denizens of Mount Temza just made it uglier. She had known that the entelexeia had been worshiped in times gone by, but to what extent had always been a mystery.

"It says here that in the time of the Geraios, bonds between an entelexeia and a krityan clan would be enforced through the _nageeg_. Sometimes it was an entelexeia and one very important individual. Did you know there was often a ceremony in honour of the partnership? … I think that may be the only nice thing I've read so far."

Judith had been imagining something like the celebration that was happening underneath her right now. She could almost feel the energy through Ba'ul, a mile or so of ocean and Zaude's glass rooftops. Ba'ul examined the image she had come up with critically, then corrected her with one of his own.  
The truth as he had been taught was much too dark and sombre for Judith's liking. Her image of crowds and music had been replaced with painful initiations. She ran her hands quickly over her antennae, partly for the comfort, mostly out of grim empathy.

The monks of Myorzo hadn't mentioned any of this. Instead, they had drilled the ceremony and customs of Krones' passing into them repeatedly until Rita had finally upturned the coffee-table with an acrimonious kick. Judith wondered if they had deliberately held back some of the very stupid things the ancient kritya had done in the name of their beloved entelexeia.

Krones replied then. Ba'ul echoed the answer to make it easier for her to follow.

**Seventeen of the ancients remain. Thirteen hide from hunters, too young to be seen as anything other than monsters.**

So four major entelexeia left in the world.

Judith quickly rewound the scroll until she found the list that had surprised her so. It included notes on births and evolutions and deaths beside each name, but Krones slowly recited the names of the surviving, adult entelexeia anyway.

Ba'ul. Krones. Izuna. Ragnus.

"So the list is very recent," she said aloud with a frown. "Someone has worked hard to keep it up-to-date. I don't think the people of Myorzo realise what they've been reading... Where could they have found such a thing..?"

.  
_oOo_  
.

"… They couldn't have just dug it up out of a library, I mean… Rita or Estelle would have known about it then. Do you think it's all made up?" Karol wondered out loud.

_Thock_, went the toy arrow.

"You're askin' the wrong man, Karol."

_Thock, _went the second, haft wobbling on the little red suction cup.

"Everyone's super nice and all… but did they _really _just throw the Elder's ashes on us when we got here? That's so creepy! It's like a cult!"

The third arrow landed neatly next to the first two, a perfect little triangle of bobbing wood.

"Well done, sir," said the stall keeper with a pained expression. "Three out of three. Again." Raven swept a gentlemanly bow, tiny novelty weapon looking ridiculous in his hand. The crowds down the tunnel between the public dome and the apartment dome were thick, but the cluster of krityan children that had gathered around the archery stall had created a barrier from the bustle.

"Thank-you, thank-you," Raven said graciously to his tiny audience. The children stared blankly and silently back.

"Judith seemed really unhappy about it too. That can't be good," Karol muttered. The little girl with the purple hair was tugging patiently on his bag, so he lifted her up by the armpits so that she could see the prizes stung up in the stall.

"Jelly-fish," she said, and Karol put her down.

"A stuffed jellyfish for the lovely young lady, my good man," Raven ordered. To Karol, he said, "You're gettin' yourself bent outta shape for nothin', kid. It's none of our business what some musty old scroll is teachin', or who ends up believin' it. Seems ta me that the good folk of Myorzo get ta let their hair down for once. No harm done. Alright, which one of you happy little rays of sunshine is next?"

The little girl gracefully and silently fell back into the semi-circle with the stuffed toy in her arms. A smaller boy took her place with that weird serene calm that seemed to come with being krityan. Karol found it really creepy, especially in the kids. Raven was completely undaunted by it; he gave the boy a rough ruffle of the hair even as the stall vendor looked like he was about to burst into tears.

"Good lad, good lad! What can ole Raven get for ya today? How about we aim for th…" Something in the crowd caught his eye, and Raven tensed. "Aw, _hell_. Quick, Karol. Is this a meetin'?"

"Uh… no?"

Karol jumped when the toy bow was shoved at his chest in a sudden rush. Raven nearly tripped over himself and every child between him and the causeway in his attempt to escape, but he hadn't waded half way through the flock of children before Rita emerged from the crowd looking lost and frustrated.

"Old Man!" she shouted when she caught sight of them. Raven visibly winced. With a fleeting, morbid look, the spy skulked his way back to the stall and stole the toy bow back from Karol's stunned hands. Rita stomped over, shoving celebrating krityans aside with more force than necessary.

"Hey Rita," Karol said.

"What," she demanded, "do you think you're doing?"

"Me?" Karol asked.

"Not you. _You_."

_Thwup_. The mock arrow missed its mark and spiralled away into the rows of stuffed animals.

"Oh, bad luck sir," the vendor beamed. "Perhaps the next shot." Raven tugged forlornly on the tiny rubber draw-string.

"I should have known you'd be goofing off," Rita declared. Her confidence lasted until she noticed the swarm of children all staring at her curiously; she took a step back, looking suspicious and disapproving. "A-anyway, where the hell did everyone go? I thought we were going to look at the blastia! You _can't _have forgotten Brave Vesperia already?"

"Did you find it?" Karol asked her. Rita went red.

"W-well no, I didn't find it! But that's just because of this stupid festival! I swear they- this place is just _rigged _to send me in circles!"

There was a snort. Raven didn't turn around, but Karol caught the corner of his grin.

"Aw, did our genius mage get herself all lost?"

Rita glared at the back of his head like she wanted to hit him, but the children were in the way. It took her some time to swallow her affront, but she eventually folded her arms and tapped a foot. That was reassuring. It usually meant an irritable cease-fire.

"… Look, you can slack off as much as you want once I've seen it, alright?" she offered irritably, "I mean, how much more important does this have to be before you take it seriously?"

She was right, Karol knew. He cast a guilty look at Raven. The older man all but groaned.

"Al_right_," the ex-captain whined. "It's a meetin'. I get it already."

The cluster of kids broke into the first sign of emotion that Karol had seen all day; they all started wailing their objections at once, grabbing and pulling and tugging to the point where Karol was certain they'd have to stay where they were to farm festival prizes forever. Raven settled them down with a few questionable (but convincing) promises and the pair of them were eventually able to wade free.

Rita actually waited this time. Raven slunk past her suspicious glare doing, Karol thought, a really good job of avoiding her eye. Rita's frown darkened.

Karol heaved a sigh and trailed despondently after them, realising that his worries and opinions were going to fall on deaf ears from here on out. Rita was on a mission and would probably get violent if anyone tried to draw her away from her speculation, and Raven was… Well, he was just acting weirder than usual.

Karol wondered where the others had gotten to.

"At the very least," he muttered to himself, "I wonder what Yuri thinks of all this?"

.  
_oOo_  
.

"I think this festival is a sham, and I don't trust these people as far as I can throw 'em," Yuri muttered to Repede, giving his partner a rough pat on the shoulder. "And Records from Temza? That's the second time that place has been brought up this week. All the more reason to keep an ear to the ground, if you ask me. … It's a lot to ask, I know."

Repede growled dismissively, slapping Yuri's hip with his tail.

When the dog tilted his head to glare at the shifting crowds with his one good eye, he huffed his haughty disapproval. When he lifted his muzzle to peer up at the ocean above, his hackles rose and he whined, long and high. It said a lot about Repede and his sense of duty that he silently rose on his paws and padded away into the crowd without another complaint.

Yuri watched his most trustworthy friend go.

"Where's Repede going?"

Estelle looked pinker than usual with the cotton candy hovering by her chin, and she was licking some fluffy remnants off her upper lip. Yuri rose from his crouch and shrugged.

"Who knows?" he lied. "It's not like he answers to me. He just goes where the wind takes him."

Estelle eyes were wide when they shifted in the direction of the departed canine.

"Repede is so cool," she breathed.

The princess finished her cotton candy silently with that determined 'I'm Going To Make Repede My Friend' expression on her face the whole time, and Yuri pretended that he wasn't watching every passerby on the off chance they were an assassin.

Maybe it was unfair to suspect all kritya, but Yuri wasn't in a fair mood. On the other hand, he'd promised himself that he wouldn't scare Estelle again. After all, she was laughing for the first time in over a week, and if that meant putting his suspicions and vengeance on hold for a day or so, then so be it.

Yuri scanned the crowd for a different set of faces. It hadn't taken long to lose the others into the waves of people, and he hadn't even been _trying_ to. Rita was two heads shorter than almost everyone else in the eastern dome and so self-involved with the renegade star that she had probably blanked out the entire city. Judith had been intending on getting lost from the minute she'd stepped out of the apartment with the scroll of Records. Karol and Raven… well, who knew where they were?  
There was no point wasting the energy to find them. They could look after themselves.

"Look Yuri!"

Estelle was away into the crowd in a rush. She bent over one of the many colourful stalls for a moment and when she straightened, she stumbled under the weight of the _Pow!_ hammer. She righted at the last minute and giggled happily with it propped on one slender shoulder. It was a strength test, and the krityan man who ran the attraction stood beside the pillar, tapped the giant button at its base with a foot, then pointed to the golden bell at the top.  
Estelle stepped up to the plate.

Yuri folded his arms as she tottered back a step, swung the hammer with a small battle cry and then slammed it down. The little peg flew up the meter, stopped just short of the bell and then fell again.

She bowed gratefully to the stall owner when she handed the hammer back but he saw her pout anyway and took pity.

"For the Child of the Full Moon," he said, handing her one of the prizes. The stuffed orange star-fish looked kinda weird with a slightly affronted expression stitched on its front, but Estelle received it with a small cry of joy and promptly buried her face in it.  
Yuri had to lean back when she raised it up to his face for him to see.

"Grats," he said, amused.

"I kind of wanted him from the start," Estelle confessed coyly, cradling the stupid looking thing against her chest. "He's such a lovely colour… How does Rousseau sound as a name?"

"It's a name," Yuri hedged.

"Yes. Chevalier Rousseau, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Estelle affirmed to herself, then dropped a sweet kiss onto its indignant face. Yuri stared. When she caught sight of something else exciting in the packed tunnel between the master domes, she shoved 'Rousseau' at his chest and it knocked the breath out of his lungs with an embarrassing 'oof'.  
He watched her flutter away into the crowd.

It was getting bad, and even he knew it.

The preoccupation with her happiness was familiar and well-known. He was used of that. Protecting her was a deep-rooted instinct, and one he didn't bother fighting. The nameless urge to be where she was didn't bother him at all, and finding ways of ignoring the counsellor's disapproving, passive-aggressive notes about 'maintaining the purity of the imperial lineage' was getting kind of fun.

None of _that_ was new to him.

This sudden blow to his attention span? That was new, as was the recurring impulse to kiss her when he should _probably _have been thinking about something else. If there was a trick to keeping his mind on track, he hadn't found it yet.

The focus of Estelle's interest this time turned out to be a dart-board mounted on a spinning wheel. Yuri stuffed the large plush-toy under an arm and watched her spend more of their money in an attempt to at least hit the spiralling thing. She managed a bulls-eye on her fourth try, and Yuri found himself tucking the novelty Krones-on-a-Stick prize right alongside Rousseau. She flashed him a delighted smile that derailed his train of thought again before moving on to the next game. Yuri grinned, a little disgusted at himself, mostly amused.

As Estelle hunkered down to stare into the low pool with the goldfish in it, hands safely kept to herself in her lap, Yuri shrugged his shoulders.

No use cutting himself up over it. The feeling probably wasn't going away anytime soon, so might as well get nice and cosy with it. Yuri had all the time in the world to come to terms with it - he had no intention of changing the situation.

"Oops," said Estelle, surprised. She'd been given a little sieve to scoop up one of the goldfish with, and the creature had simply wriggled over the edge like a slip of gilt ribbon. When she tried again with twice the caution, the fish had splashed its way free before the sieve had even left the impossibly blue waters.

Yuri smiled, placed the prizes by their feet and then crouched down beside her.

"You'll never catch 'em that way," he told her simply, reaching around her to close his fingers over the sieve. Her narrow shoulders tucked snugly against his side, and the floral scent of her hair was heady in his nostrils. It was a test; his train of thought jarred off track and skipped a few times on the fact that she was so slender against him... but he was expecting it this time and that made the moment of weakness easier to manage.

It _would_ get easier with time.

"It didn't look that hard," Estelle muttered into his distracted silence. Yuri adjusted his grip on the sieve to hold more of it than her fingers.

"Depends how you do it. You just gotta be quick, before they know what's happening," he replied.

It sounded cool and knowing, but it was easier said than done. The fish darted away from his every attempt to scoot the miniature net in their direction. The first successful swoop actually bounced a goldfish straight out of the pool and into Estelle's lap (she hastily scooped it back in, looking distressed) and the second sharp flick upwards broke the membrane of the sieve entirely.

Yuri stared at the fat goldfish through the destroyed net.

"Man, I suck at this," he muttered, dropping his head. Estelle laughed and nudged him with her shoulder, a friendly bump that made him grin. "Well don't be _too_ happy about it," was all he could think to say, because her delight was worth the bruised ego.

"Gald for another try?" the vendor offered, all smiles. Estelle shook her head, watching the fishes They stirred up ripples that ran its fingertips of reflected light across her face.

"… I couldn't take one home anyway. I just wanted to try," she confessed eventually, smiling apologetically. "Sorry for wasting your time, Yuri."

When he turned to meet her eye, she ducked her head just so; sheets of her pink hair fell softly over a sheepish expression until all Yuri could see was the shy twist to her lips.

Yuri smiled through the ache and _didn't _tighten his arm around her.

Half of the problem, Yuri had decided, was that the world thought it knew what was best for Estellise Heurassein. There was never a person more pushed and pulled around by popular opinion. The Councillors, Ioder, Flynn… Even Karol and his thick-as-thieves guild. They meant well, but they still thought they knew what she wanted out of life. They thought they knew what would make her happy.

Yuri knew that the only person who knew what would make Estelle happy was Estelle.

He wasn't going to be the one to force her hand in anything. If she asked him to travel with her some more… he could do that. If she decided she needed him to disappear when some pompous prince charming finally arrived like she'd always been dreaming… Well, Yuri could do that too.

Only Estelle knew what Estelle wanted.

The stall keeper was watching them both with an amused smile. He picked up his small butterfly net to poke the vendor of the next stall over. The woman selling an assortment of masks had already been watching the small display, equally charmed, and she flapped a hand at the prodding net.

"Got anything… appropriate for the Child of the Full Moon?" the man asked her with a grin. The woman's smile curled at the ends and Yuri suddenly felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. He pushed himself to his feet abruptly, gathering up their festival goods with all the casual disinterest he could muster. There was a small chuckle.

"For the lady that helps Krones, absolutely," the mask-seller cooed. "How about a mask for your trouble, miss?" Estelle rose to her feet just as a woman plucked a white oval from her display.

"I couldn't possibly-" Estelle began, but her eyes were already sparkling at the sight of the elaborate thing. The woman nodded and passed her one of the less abstract ones. What arrived in Estelle's hand was shell-white all over and was probably meant to be a stylised woman's face, cut and ridged like a scallop over one cheek and strung with lines of pearls and ornaments. Yuri just found it weird.  
The mask-seller tilted her head; she was wearing one herself like a stylishly coifed cap. Written across the forehead in bright blue letters was the word 'fortune', and the woman motioned to the tub of blue water in front of her.

"You've got to dip it into the font to reveal your blessing," she said with a wink.

"Any blessing?" Estelle wondered aloud. Both vendors looked altogether too pleased with themselves when Estelle reverently dunked the canvas-white mask into the blue waters. Yuri curiously watched over her shoulder as she did.

The abstract face hadn't changed much when it was lifted from the basin; streaming with tendrils of dyed water, it glistened in the cold light and after half a moment, a vague blush of blue began to rise on its cheeks. A little while after that, a speckled pattern adorned the temples. The beads went sapphire. The lips darkened. It was clearly a chemical reaction, but it was certainly taking its sweet time.  
They were still waiting for the blessing when Estelle eventually thanked the two kind stall owners and then wandered off into the crowds to find somewhere to sit down. When Yuri caught sight of an empty bench by a fortune teller's hut, he reached back to guide her there.

He nearly dropped her prizes when his gentle tug met complete resistance.

"Estelle?"

She was staring at the mask in her hands, looking embarrassed and surprised. Flushed, she opened her mouth to say something, but whatever whisper finally escaped was swallowed by the noisy crowds. Yuri's eyes travelled over the jumbled mess of emotion on her face. He peered down to the mask in her hands to see what could possibly have caused it.

Emblazoned across the forehead in curling letters of aquamarine was one word. It was printed across the mask so brightly and boldly that Yuri wondered just how much of a blessing it was intended to be.

"Of course," he muttered sourly. _Everyone_ thought they knew what was best for Estellise Heurassein. The princess in mention sighed, shoulders drooping.

"It's actually kind of funny," she said softly. "I was hoping so much for Courage, and somehow I ended up with this instead."

The crowds were like a surreal river, split and ceaseless around them. Estelle winced suddenly, as if some thought pained her, and then she very slowly placed the mask on her head. She'd angled it lower than the vendor had; the chin of the mask almost covered one of her green eyes and the strings of pearls and shells and tassels tumbled over her hair like chaos. The mask's expression was one of perfect apathy. It just made the cacophony of doubt on Estelle's face all the more gutting.

The word 'Love' should have looked stupid written in such bold, blue letters across the mask's forehead. It didn't. Yuri didn't realise he had been holding his breath until Estelle shyly hooked one of his fingers with a few of her own.

"Um, Yuri… Could I..?" Her eyes kept dipping lower, and eventually she ducked her head so that the mask hid them from view entirely. All that was left to look at was the apathetic, serene woman and the word 'Love', almost mocking.

A few more of his fingers were eased into the gentle curl of her hand.

"Could I ask you a question?"

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not so sure if it is a wise thing or not, but character analysis is the flavour of this (and the next) chapter. To make up for it, chapters get released sooner. And then things happen! Thanks to everyone who still reads this fic; it's turning into a long journey, I know, but hopefully the upcoming revelations make the wait worth it?**


	13. Mistakes

**13: Mistakes**

.  
_oOo_  
.

Repede couldn't find the space to clear his muzzle. Stopping to sit down meant that his tail was tripped over, stood on or (in the case of one gummy-fingered little boy) stuck to a may pole. So he kept moving. And the smells kept piling up.

Sweat, hops, brine and fish were the biggest pains, a muddy myriad of choking sensation that made Repede's head spin. Occasionally picking out the sharp tangs of chemical perfume, vomit and disinfectant was worse.

The only constant, the only relief, was the velvet bass of Yuri's scent. Repede never went so far as to completely lose it in the cloud.

Repede criss-crossed and circled through the crowd doggedly, smelling only drunk, happy people and the salt of millions of tons of ocean. He was huffing and puffing miserably on his pipe by the northern causeway when something new touched his nose, sharp and shocking.

Gunpowder.

The dog bit down on his pipe with a sudden _clack_. The curling ribbon of burnt umber was wafting in from the northeast tunnel, and Repede edged towards the entrance. It was quiet and empty within. The smell enticingly curled a finger, spreading out into the unused space like charred treacle.

Yuri's subtle presence didn't extend past the northern dome. Repede snorted in a lungful of it, hesitated the one moment that it took to shake his coat free of the festival funk, then plunged into the empty, blue-washed hallway at a sprint.

Scouting after the smell wasn't hard because it wasn't a trail to pick up and follow. It was an expanding cloud, and Repede was forced to slow to a trot long before he found the source simply because of the strength of it. The gunpowder was so thick that it began to hurt. He prowled uncomfortably until he reached Zaude's main atrium, not quite prepared to wade any further.

Repede had hunkered down to frustrated sit when the source of his discomfort strode through the open main doors. The figure was so nervous that the stench of it was as strong as the gunpowder. There was a smaller man beside him, and he smelled like freshly dug earth.

"Not that I'm ungrateful you're here… but _please _tell me you took a boat," the taller one was begging.

"Of course I did. There's no way I'm relying on that _idiot _brother of yours again!"

"It's not his fault, he was just doing what he was told. O_rders,_" - here the taller man shot his companion a piercing look -_ "_given to me by Elis. So be nice."

"He led the Hunting Blades right to me!"

A ridge of fur rose up right along Repede's spine, and he slunk further back against the decorative stonework around the atrium. They stood side-by-side like comrades, but the smaller one twitched as if he were feral.

"Keep it down!" the calm one hissed. "And at least try to act like one of the Myorzians. None of that… crazy thing you do. None. We have to wait this out."

"Why?" demanded the other. "They're right here! Just give me _half an hour and-_"

He abruptly shut his mouth when a group of celebrating krityans passed through the atrium.

Repede could hear the feral man's teeth grind out a note of discord even from where he lurked. Despite oozing menace, the little figure bowed politely at them and then continued speaking a furious whisper.

Repede curled up, dropped his chin onto the cross-section of his paws, and then watched the distant figures hiss and snarl at each other. They did that for a long time, and the smell of gunpowder had spread out to smother the entire atrium by the time they, to Repede's annoyance, split and moved away down different hallways. He pushed himself to his paws and trotted out into the centre of the atrium. They disappeared from view completely just as the main entrance opened.

Despite having years to get used to the subtle burn of her perfume, Repede didn't recognise Judith by her smell. It was her aura of intent, and it was that edged presence that fell upon him in a series of efficient strides.

"Hello Repede," she said softly, crouching like a hunter. "I need a favour." Repede huffed an acknowledgement before ignoring her. Two lines of scent, one caustic, one mellow. The gunpowder was stronger and distracting, but there was something about the smell of freshly tossed dirt that made Repede's hackles rise.

"I need you to take this to Estelle. I've marked the passages she has to read."

Repede dropped his nose to the ground and walked a few paces, snuffling up as much of the two smells as he could. If he was quick about it, he could probably keep them both monitored…

A heavy cylinder smelling like age and lilac was dropped into his eyeline. Repede shot Judith a baleful glare.

"Please. It's very important and I can't do it myself. Ba'ul and I have to fly."

Repede fell back on his haunches with a resigned _whump_; Judith drew a string from her clothes and quickly fastened the heavy scroll to the front of his collar. It dragged at his neck.

"Estelle," Judith repeated. "It's urgent."

And as simply as that, she turned and exited out of the main doors, taking her hunter's intent with her. Repede snorted.

Lilac, gunpowder and dirt. It was some sort of decision. Repede didn't make them, so he growled at the ugly cloud that was curdling the atrium air in pure frustration. He paced a small circuit of the octagonal hall, bit down on his pipe and grudgingly snorted as much gunpowder and dirt out of his nose as he could.

The cylinder bounced uncomfortably at his throat when he turned his back on the two mysterious, worrying trails and headed back the way he had come.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Karol was good at finding his way around places. Rita knew his sense of direction sucked as much as the next person's, but there was something about Karol Capel that just seemed to… fit in. He wore every city like it was his hometown, and he could have fallen face-first into a bog out in the middle of nowhere and it'd have looked like he'd tripped over the front step of his own house.

People just liked him, too. Rita couldn't figure it out. It had taken her a long time to get past his extreme enthusiasm and to forgive that weird uptight, responsible streak in him. But people liked Karol.

He'd gotten them all lost within half an hour. It had taken him twice as long to give up on the sorry-excuse for a map he'd drawn and then finally ask a bunch of drunken locals for directions. He was good with people. It wasn't as if _she _hadn't thought of asking for directions, and she'd been a damn sight clearer about what she wanted too. Karol had tripped over his well wishes and got distracted by the giant hats they were wearing and commented on the weather in an underwater city and he _still _got a better response.

…Well, whatever. Replacing blastia function with mana formulae was simpler than people anyway.

Rita mulled over this as the three of them clattered down the final set of stone steps into Zaude's basement. The roots of the Shrine were huge, but they had been completely submerged the first time they'd trekked their way through it. When the people of Myorzo had drained the entire structure, it had left the basement a yawning cavity in the dull gloom.

Algae and seaweed still clung in clumps over the intricate framework of the eastern arch.

"Okay, we're here. Can I go now?" Karol announced, dropping unceremoniously to sit on the final step. Rita didn't dignify that with a response. She splashed over the inch of sea-water still layering the ground towards her goal.

The huge curve of the barrier blastia was a ghostly shape in the background, but Rita wasn't interested in it. She found what she was _really _looking for curling around it in a sizable tangle.

There had been a collapse at the auxiliary blastia's base. She heaved on the fallen masonry, but it barely moved.

"Hey Old Man," she called, running a wrist over her forehead. "Make yourself useful for once and help me move… this…"

Raven was nowhere to be seen. Karol made a small noise of surprise and twisted on the spot, but any idiot could see that the old spy had simply given them the slip when they weren't paying attention. Rita felt her cheeks flush with insult and fury.

Karol wordlessly hauled himself to his feet and, despite being already breathless from the walk to the basement, he left his bag on the steps and splashed his way over to the wreckage. Rita avoided his eye when he ducked down to get two gloves under the first large chunk of rubble.

"This is so dumb," Karol complained through a wheeze when they hauled it out of the water. "Maybe we should wait until after the cerem-"

"No," Rita managed through her teeth. She gave her end of the slab a rough shove to hurry him up. It was slow going, but they managed to crab-walk the chunk of masonry to one side.

"But _right now_?" was the next complaint. "I don't get why it can't wait."

"Quit whining," Rita muttered. "If you're gonna blame someone for getting your hands dirty, blame the Old Man."

There was a pause as they began the careful business of lowering it to the ground. Into the concentrated silence, Karol wondered aloud,

"So what did you _do_ to make him hate you so much?"

The slab thundered to the ground and nearly crushed Karol's feet. He leapt back with a yelp.

Rita stared at him, stunned. She turned her eyes down to the block of stone, back up to her friend and then over to the steps leading out of the basement. They were empty.

If there was something to say to that, she didn't know what it was. Instead, she turned and splashed back to the uncovered blastia frame. She threw the remaining rubble aside furiously.

When Karol spoke up again, he sounded so apologetic and awkward that it made her skin crawl.

"I mean, I dunno… It's just that… Well, have you been hitting him more than usual?"

"Shut up, who cares," Rita snapped, hurling the last stone at the wall over arm. It left a crack in the masonry.

She'd been hitting him _less_ than usual. Raven deserved every fist to the face he got, but he'd actually been tolerable lately. Even she had to admit the trip to Heliord could have been worse. It could have been _much_ worse… but maybe that partnership had been all in her mind.

"You really need to learn how to be nicer, Rita," Karol said sagely. "You know, say nice stuff once in a while. Maybe hit people less. I dunno, lighten up or something."

"Are you done?" Rita shot back. Her face was burning. "Some of us have work to do!"

Rita didn't get people. They didn't get her either, but years of ridicule in Aspio had made her accustomed to that. No, it took friends to realise just how weird, irrational and illogical _other _people could be.

Rita ran her hands over the small, compact blastia frame. _This _she got. This made sense. Fact and Theory. Cause and Effect.

Rita focused on dislodging all the shells, seaweed and algae from the blastia. After that, it was a jigsaw puzzle of putting the smaller pieces of rubble back into the housing to form the case. She had finally wiggled the last of the stone in place when the sound of feet on the stairwell startled her out of her work.

It was one of the robed kritya, and he looked upset and flustered as he stumbled down the stairs. He caught his breath, mopped his sweaty brow and then burst into a panicked babble that was so loud that it echoed. Rita didn't understand a word of it, but Karol appeared shocked.

"J-Judy's missing?" he managed.

"We've searched everywhere!" was the upset reply. "P-perhaps we should consider a replacement for the ceremony?"

Karol had a million questions when he splashed his way over to the stairs. Rita watched him guide the flustered krityan aside, throw the strap of his bag over a shoulder and then start up the stairway. He was already four steps up when he faltered, realising she hadn't moved.

"Come on Rita, we gotta find Judy!" he managed, surprised. Rita bristled.

"I- How many times do I have to say this? This is important! Judy can look after herself, and someone has to figure out this blastia!" she retorted vehemently. The confused, disapproving look on his face made her fists clench, but there was nothing else to say.

Karol was searching her face for something but obviously didn't find it. He looked disappointed when he nodded.

"If… If you say so," he said slowly. He and the krityan man bustled up the steps in a rush and suddenly Rita was alone with the yawning cavern and the _plink, plink, plink _of the dripping ceiling. She glowered at the broken blastia casing. Of course she was worried about Judy, but didn't anyone see how important her work was?  
It wasn't like she was doing this for _fun._

"It's not your fault, y'know."

Rita jumped.

She slid her eyes up at the abstract, curving stone of the giant blastia. Raven was reclined on the only horizontal surface up there, both arms behind his head and barely facing her at all. He was watching her out of the corner of his eye. She stared back.

How long had he been listening?

"It's not your fault," he repeated into the silence. "Whatever's happenin' ta Brave Vesperia? You can't blame yourself for that."

Rita turned back to the blastia, fighting off a scowl and a blush and not succeeding with either.

"I know that, idiot," she muttered, uncomfortable. Raven looked sceptical and unconvinced.

"Right. Cuz who knew some nutcase would sabotage yer equipment," he prompted.

"Sure," she ground out. "Who knew."

She tried to make sense of the patch-work blastia in front of her, but he was too distracting. Her hands curled into fists, her lips pressed together into an angry, thin line. She lasted half a moment more before she couldn't take the judgement any more.

"Seriously though, what do you take me for? I was right _there_, y'know. I watched it happen, and it was my equipment, my test! You can't tell me that doesn't mean something! If I hadn't been so damn _careless _maybe this… Ugh, how long have you been up there?"

"That's not how blame works, darlin'," Raven retorted. "Think in maybes and then we're all as guilty as sin. You can't work yourself ta death just cuz of some What Ifs."

"It's not like that," she snapped, angry because it was quite a bit like that. "You think it isn't my problem? I may be the only person who can figure this out. I'm sure as hell the only person who can figure this out _quickly_, so yeah. That makes it my problem. Anyway, why the hell do you care?"

Raven gazed down at her critically.

"Why _do _I care?" he wondered quietly, blank faced. Rita gaped at him, face weirdly cold. She had already heard Karol's opinion on the matter. She suddenly realised that she had heard enough.

The mage jerked her gaze away and stepped up to the blastia. Work. Just focus on _work_.

She let out a pathetically wobbly breath when she opened her research panel and started up the formula, only to stare blankly at the waiting syntax. After a moment she forced herself to focus.

It was a good distraction. Most of it was tedious prep. Rita isolated the conduits and, one-by-one, fed mana through the channels. Sure enough, most of it looped back in a strange flux that, after a while, eventually banked up until it was forced through the limbs of the blastia.

"Okay, somethin's glowin' up here," Raven said suddenly with a worried shift. His voice made her fumble a few keys on her panel.

"That's... That's where the auxiliary unit plugs into the barrier," Rita muttered. She ran her wrist over her eyes briefly before daring to ask, "You see something? Weird."

"Uh, it's a symbol. Looks kinda like a bee-utiful lady, if ya know what I mean."

"_A what?_"

"Like this." Raven scribbled out an hourglass shape in the air.

"That's _Chrocs_," Rita replied, so surprised she forgot to yell at his idiocy. Not the energy type she'd been expecting. She moved on to the next conduit and upped the power outage. She looked up at him expectantly.

When he traced the next series of wobbly lines into the cold air, Rita grew confused.

_Rockra _had come next, followed by _Laytos_, _Twory _and a huge reaction of _Strihm_. None of them should have had anything to do with a hoplon blastia, but there they were. No use denying data. Take the facts at hand and make them work_._

Rita left her research panel processing and rocked back on her heels, deep in thought. A red Vesperia, a miniature hoplon core and enough _Strihm _to make a mountain dance…

Hoplon cores were normally weapons, but what was looping mana before her was doing a good job of being something else entirely.

Theories happened then, and Rita lost track of time.

She was scribbling calculations furiously into her workbook when an entourage of robed kritya shuffled their way into the basement. They were an annoying mangled mess of noise - like she'd come to expect from them - but whatever they were saying was probably stupid and she had better things to think about. Rita tuned them out, turned her page and started on the synthesis of the energy types.

"I think it's time for the ceremony, Genius Mage," Raven called down to her when the monks had trailed off into a confused and awkward silence. Rita glanced at him.

She tucked her notes and instruments back into her jacket and then turned towards the exit. She came to a decision just as her heel struck the water with a splash.

"Not bad, Old Man. That... That helped," she said aloud, tossing a glance at Raven over her shoulder. He was smiling, genuine for one moment before the expression turned stupid and smug.

"Weeell, I don't like ta brag, but they don't call me Raven the Great fer nothin', sweetheart," he said with a helpless shrug.

Rita stared up at him thoughtfully.

As she turned and followed the monks up the stairs from the basement, she wondered if her nice had been nice enough, and she was surprised that it had been easier than she'd expected.

Rita decided then, running a hand through her hair, that it was worth the effort.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Raven watched her go.

He continued to watch long after the yawning basement had swallowed even the memory of its visitors, and he continued to think long after the chill grew intolerable.

No one _ever _asked Raven about Love. They might have been surprised to know that he was always perfectly honest about the subject.

But no one ever asked. So Raven never told.

The archer gave a heartfelt shiver in the frigid air, finally admitted defeat and began the long climb to the basement floor. Without Rita's self-involved monologue and the constant beeps of her research panel, the room was achingly quiet and cold.  
Raven dropped to the slick floor just in time for his first sneeze, and he rubbed his nose with a sleeve miserably. Shivering, he splashed over to examine Rita's work.

She'd painstakingly pieced the half-demolished blastia back together like a potter reconstructing a shattered urn. There was a reverent little pile of seaweed, barnacles and anemones beside it. Raven scuffed the area with a boot, found a missed fragment in the thin water and then bent to pick it up. It was freezing in his palm, but he squeezed it anyway. The edges bit into even his callused hands.

As far as Raven could tell, there was only one kind of Love.

It was a blanket emotion, uncomplicated and simple. It was all the same thing no matter where it went: to lovers or to family, friends or rivals, the generous barman or the old comrade from years gone by. No different. All the same.  
The only difference was how much of it there was, and what other emotion warped it on the way out.

Raven wasn't sure when he'd started loving Rita, but it hadn't been a bad thing at the time. Who wouldn't? She was an endearing little firecracker, for all she tried to be too spiny to love. It had been funny and harmless enough to appreciate her pragmatism. More so because she was just too damn young for it and that charmed him.  
Rita Mordio was too sensible for the world, too impatient with needless complication and fanciful thinking.

He must have driven her crazy. He certainly learned which buttons to press to get the most explosive reaction out of her and, being honest, he had made a point of pressing them daily.

It took Raven _years _to realise that he enjoyed her company for the punishment. Rita had a talent for cutting through the layers of crap he'd built around himself with fiery, angry logic... and the disturbing thing was that he _liked_ it.  
Alexei, Drake and the Don had been the only set to do it quite as well. But Rita didn't hack through the lies and diversions with any underlying motive. There was no plan, no goal. She did it because the tangle of his life offended her sense of efficiency. She'd call him an idiot, tell him quite logically what part of existing he was getting wrong, how annoying it was that she had to tell him and then that was that.

Raven dropped the stone back into the water and watched it shatter his reflection into ripples. He left before the waters could calm again.

It was an understanding, Raven realised as he climbed up the staircase, that didn't feel like it belonged to _friendship_. He should have known better. He should have taken a step back when it was still funny that he was getting life advice from a girl young enough to be his daughter.

He shouldn't have waited until she was sitting on sandy beach in a breezy summer dress, helping him mock Karol's disastrous attempts at flirting with Nan. He shouldn't have waited until she was still brilliant, pragmatic Rita Mordio but suddenly not so much a girl any more.

Love was a blanket emotion, uncomplicated and simple. It just got warped, and it was probably on that beach, her lips curled into a companionable smirk… Well, that was when all that admiration and fascination teamed up with lust to give Love its final, damning twist.

It was almost funny. He was a man in his late thirties more than a little smitten with a girl half his age. Raven would have laughed, but the joke was getting old.

"It's yer own damn fault," he sighed to himself as stumbled up the last step into the eastern cross-roads.

It wasn't the first stupid mistake Raven had made in his train-wreck of a life. It probably wasn't the last. But it was all his own this time, and thank god for small mercies. His genuine attempts over the last year to minimise the damage had been successful, but after Karol's sagely insight... probably too successful. Might need to rethink tactics.

He rubbed some warmth back into his fingers half-heartedly, feeling older than usual. There was a pair of krityans having a conversation around the bend in the glass tunnel; Raven eavesdropped despondently.

"-and just keep an eye on him. He has these... moods."

"Yessir. Of course, sir. Um... Keeper Elis wants to know if you're done yet... What should I tell her?"

"This day keeps getting better... Just tell her I'm done. Actually, don't bother. I'll go report to the old battleaxe myself before the ceremony starts."

There was a strained silence; Raven's ears piqued at the hint of intrigue.

"Yessir. O-One last thing, Keeper Jerard. Some of the men seem to have lost... um... lost their targets."

"You didn't just tell me that."

Well that sounded interesting. The ex-spy glanced across the cross-roads and, finding no one there, he crept closer to the bend in the tunnel. He could see two wobbling silhouettes through the glass and water, so he ducked low to hide his own.

"Yessir! I mean, nossir! I-I mean the important ones are still where they should be, so we didn't think it would effect the... Uh, what I'm trying to say is that they'll be found as soon as possible!"

"Okay, let me be clear. I'm going to walk _really slow _on my way to report. You better have found them and then caught up with the good news, or I'm going to have to be honest to Keeper Elis. And I'm no martyr, let me tell you. We can _both _be skinned alive. Won't that be fun."

_Really _interesting.

"Yessir! By the Ancients, please sir, forgive me."

"Oh, look at that. Time's ticking! You've got until Krones finishes his Rite of Passing, you know. Off you go! Break a leg!"

Raven crept silently down a few of the basement steps to hide himself from view when the krityan man in the robes bustled past. He rose slowly, cautiously. The remaining figure was muttering to himself exhaustively. He paced a few steps, flapped his hands unhappily and then turned and began to stride away down the west tunnel.

It wasn't a conscious decision to trail after him at a careful distance. Raven wasn't even sure if he was wasting his time or not. But it was a gut feeling, an echo of intuition, and sometimes you just had to follow those.

After all, he reasoned, old habits died hard.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: Estelle and Yuri next chapter, naturally. As for _these _two... I have weirdly strong views about why they work in my mind, and putting that into words was _stupid_ hard. Especially considering Raven is neither honest nor particularly angsty. I don't feel like it was as elegant as it could have been. Sigh.**

**Profile as usual for the update status and a hyper grateful 'thank you very, very much for the reviews' for everyone who gifted me with one!**


	14. Could I Ask You a Question?

**14: Could I Ask You a Question?**

**.**  
_oOo_  
.

Someone was playing Desmarais' Springtime Sonata. It was played sweetly and simply, by a string quartet, with all the romance and none of the pomp. Estelle had danced to it more times than she could count. She had danced to it in the most extravagant ballrooms Zaphias' nobility had to offer. She danced to it in gowns strung with gemstones and silk, and she'd danced with the richest, most influential men in the northern world.

She danced it with her mother.

_'Up, Estellise," her mother had laughed, out of breath already. She hoisted her flowing skirts high, revealing the pair of pretty purple heels that Estellise had always envied. Cautiously, guiltily, the ten-year-old gripped her mother's waist for balance and settled a small foot on each of the larger ones. She was sullenly silent. The mother laughed into the empty room, as pretty as the tune from the music box. _

_The beautiful woman took two perfect steps with her daughter a passenger on each._

_"Master Fogarty will be cross, mother," Estellise whispered secretively._

_"Whatever for, Estellise?"_

_The Empress' hands were firm around the child's, and she held them out at silly angles when she twisted them about through the first measure. _

_"Dancing is a serious art, mother," the girl explained. "I'm only to study it when I'm being serious. It's very serious."_

_The mother never frowned. She smiled instead, mischievously, and she pulled a dainty foot back so swiftly that Estellise fell backwards with a squeak. The empress caught her gracefully in the world's most magical dip. _

_For the first time ever, Estellise felt like a lady, merged with the mother's flowing grace._

_"Dancing is about joy, child! And love, of course. Don't tell Master Fogarty, but I imagine that you'll fall in love with your Prince Charming in a waltz, smiling all the while."_

_"Like Lady Emereed from the Tale of Two Tridents?"_

_"Of course, my dearest. Just like that."_

And then she had died, along with the magic of the waltz.

It had been a reserved, precise art again; a tool of diplomacy and tact. She had noted Ioder's sweet bumbling mistakes more than his sweet smile on their first dance. There was only the strength in Commandant Alexei's hand, not his accommodating smile when she had been paired with him, and all Estelle had seen in Captain Schwann was the haunted look in his eyes and not the surreal grace of his lead. Flynn had been handsome and kind, but Estelle had simply seen an earnest soul a little out of his depth.

They were playing the Springtime Sonata over the bustle of the festival crowd. Estelle sucked in a quick, shocked breath.

"A question? Sure, Estelle. What's up?"

Her mother had been right all along. She had also been very wrong. No one was wearing the fabulous clothes of a ballroom. Estelle wasn't anything like a heroine out of a novel. He wasn't a prince, she wasn't laughing, and they weren't even dancing.

But there was no mistaking it.

"I wish I was braver," she sighed, eyes glued to the careful link their fingertips had created. Yuri tilted his head curiously.

"You kidding? C'mon Estelle, you're plenty brave." When she didn't reply, he asked in a slow, cautious voice, "You gonna tell me what this is really about?"

Estelle winced.

When she turned her question around in her mind, she wondered how on earth she was supposed to ask it. It felt impossible. For her, it _was _impossible.

And then she remembered her mother, and the borrowed grace of riding on her perfect feet.

Estelle took of chin of the mask in her free hand, let out a shaky breath, and then pulled its lovely expression of calm confidence carefully down over her own.  
The mask was not really designed to be worn. It filled her vision with inky blackness, and without the ability to see, Estelle dared to slip her hand carefully into his. She focused everything she had on that simple contact, on every subtle motion in an attempt to read something from them. She waited for him to pull away. He didn't.

"… I suppose… Brave Vesperia won't be granting me wishes any time soon. Not like this. Not now," she began oddly, voice sounding unfamiliar and muffled to even her own ears. "There's not really any point in waiting for a better time. So I'm just going to ask. You don't even have to answer if you don't want to. It's n-not important, honestly. Not really."

Yuri's hand was still and warm in hers, unmoving and patient. Despite her desperate attempts at calm indifference, she was still terrified and she gave that hand an unconscious squeeze, hoping for a response.

There wasn't one, and when she spoke again her voice warbled up an octave, shaky and not very indifferent at all.

"B-But… I mean, if I was honest with myself, I could have gone on like this forever, not knowing. Just to make sure tomorrow was the same as yesterday. But that's not fair on anyone, is it?"

"Estelle, you haven't actually _asked _me a que-"

"Yuri, do you love me?"

In the muddled mess of her mind, it had almost sounded reasonable.

In the sucking silence that ate even the festival din, it sounded selfish and wrong.

Speaking the words had taken all of her stolen courage and, with none of it left, Estelle came to the terrible realisation that the words couldn't be _un_said.  
When the silence stretched out long and awkward, she desperately wished it could.

"It's n-not important," she burst out hastily. "I'm sorry I asked! You can f-forget I said anything-"

When Yuri pulled his hand out of hers, her heart broke.

It reassembled again into a painful mess when his fingers reappeared at the chin of the mask. Unfairly, each knuckle brushed a ghostly line over her cheek as he began to lift it, and Estelle's breath hitched. She slammed her eyelids shut just as the black began to recede.

Shock, confusion, amusement, pity, scorn… disgust. These were very real reactions to her tactless query. She could imagine them on Yuri's face with terrible clarity and not even Brave Vesperia could have delivered her the courage to face them.

Estelle counted each rocking heartbeat that pounded against her ribs. She was up to seven and trembling with the force of them by the time the mask was left on the crown of her head, elastic string awkward and pinning over her ears.

Yuri never said a word, and Estelle didn't dare open her eyes. His fingertips were all that existed in those terrifying moments, a gentle touch at her hairline and ears as he brushed her caught hair into order. They whispered in tingles over her temples and, eventually, trailed down her cheek to the barest edge of her jaw.

The pad of his thumb touched her chin and Estelle felt her face tilt upwards. He'd never touched her like that before.

She cracked one eyelid open timidly.

Yuri was watching her cautiously, so close their noses almost touched.  
She jumped. His eyebrow quirked in the barest of questions. His eyes searched for an answer. Estelle couldn't fathom what he was asking her.

When his thumb swept up to touch her lower lip, suddenly it was very clear.

"Oh," Estelle whispered, stunned.

She managed half a breath in before he leant in to kiss her and then the air crystallised in her lungs.

It was such a careful, gentle thing. Not reckless at all. He kissed her so softly that she wondered if she wasn't imagining it, and then knew she wasn't because she had always imagined Yuri to have been daring and bold.  
But no, he must have thought she was made out of glass by the way his hand gently unfurled against her neck. And each kiss was so light, a subtle shift against her lips that made her caught breath glitter. Unbelieving, she tilted her head and kissed him back.

Estelle gasped in a tinkling breath against his mouth when Yuri abruptly tugged her closer; needing somewhere to put her trembling hands, she splayed them over his chest, half for balance, half to guarantee the air between them for when she needed it next.

And she did, because his lips were slow and thorough on hers, pressing closer with every heartbeat.

"Dad, those guys are _kissing_," a child said loudly to their left.

Estelle couldn't help herself. A giggle bubbled up from her chest and broke against his mouth for one nervous moment before she gave up and pulled away. Her fingertips flew to her tingling lips.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry," she stuttered earnestly, then betrayed herself when she giggled again.

Yuri was looking flushed and exasperated and, when he turned his dark eyes to the interruption, more than a little irritated. The krityan man mumbled something apologetic and sheepishly tried to draw his gawping son away. The child couldn't have looked more indignant.

When they disappeared into the crowd, Yuri heaved a sigh that made her hair ruffle.

"Typical," was all he had to say. His hand was still curled possessively against her neck, and the simple shift of a thumb made them both remember it in the same moment. The look in his eye turned contemplative, and Estelle bit down on her lower lip in a desperate attempt to stop smiling. Her giggles fluttered high in her chest, desperate to escape.  
She'd almost swallowed the last traitorous laugh when he leant in to kiss her again. She'd almost gotten herself under control.

And then Yuri suddenly jerked forward and his chin connected with her nose with enough force to knock the mask from her head.

It broke into pieces on the stone ground just as Karol, who had rebounded off Yuri's back and cascaded to the ground, groaned out a long note of misery in a crumpled heap.

Estelle clutched her throbbing nose. Shocked, she looked from Yuri's incensed expression (clutching his chin in much the same way) to the ruined mask and then to Karol. Her pent up giggles burst from her throat in a rush. Karol jumped at the sound of it and lifted his head.

"_G-guys! _Oh man, I'm _so_ glad I found you!" he wailed, completely oblivious to Yuri's deathly glare. "A bunch of stall-owners said you were around here but I couldn't find _anything _in all these people and I must have walked all over about a _million_ times or even _more_. I mean, I really looked all over! Seriously, you must have been hiding or something, coz I definitely couldn't… find… Uh… I… I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Estelle burst out laughing, and she laughed and laughed until she wept with the relief of it all. Yuri sighed once more and, dropping his hand to the back of her head, he drew her forward until her forehead met his collarbone with a small bump.

"Yeah," he replied to Karol waspishly, "you could say that."

"Oh, you mean… You aren't… you weren't-"

"I'm sorry!" Estelle gasped, shoulders shaking with mirth.

Karol's expression was one of pure horror, and that just made her laugh all the more. Tears had gathered on her lashes so thickly that, when a familiar figure slipped in past the juggler's stand, she almost didn't recognise her.

"_Finally_," Rita exclaimed furiously, throwing her hands up into the air. "Just where the hell have you guys been? You realise you have half of the damn city looking for you, right?"

"That's just wonderful," Yuri replied sarcastically. He had barely gotten the words through his teeth before Repede slid around the bend and, leaping over Karol with ease, skidded to a halt at Yuri's ankles with a rolling growl. "Just _perfect_," the swordsman corrected himself darkly.

Repede huffed madly on his pipe before giving a furious bark that made them all jump. When no one made an effort to move, Repede forced himself between Estelle and Yuri and sat down with finality, angry and unmoving.

"Hey!" Yuri managed.

Repede gave Estelle a pointed look over his shoulder and then tossed his head. A large cylinder was swung over his shoulder in the process and it dangled between the dog's shoulderblades, enticing.

"Th-that's the Lost Records," Estelle managed, breathlessly wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Oh no you don't, dog," Rita snapped, "I got here first! _Estelle, _I've been doing some study into that core, and I think I know what we've gone and done. I think whatever's happening to Vesperia is serious. Really serious."

"You've got to be kidding me…" Yuri groaned.

"Oh right, hey listen up guys, has anyone seen Judy? I've looked all over and I don't even think she's even in the city anymore," Karol exclaimed loudly. Repede started barking again, impatient.

Estelle heard Yuri attempt over the noise, "Yeah, guys? Kinda in the middle of something."

They ignored him and Estelle was forced to duck down beside Repede to stop him barking. It was a simple knot that had bound the heavy scroll to his collar, but she fumbled with it anyway, inelegant and sluggish. Her fingers were still shaking, and Estelle could feel every popping breath in her lungs as if her ribcage was brimming with soapsuds. She was expecting another giggle; she hiccupped instead, and she ducked lower with the hope that no one had heard the ridiculous sound.

They couldn't have. More noise erupted around them at the same instant, sudden and deafening.

"By the ancients, we've found her!"

"_Over here!_"

"Child of the Full Moon!"

The krityan monks were an offensively happy and colourful army, crashing in from all sides like bright, ogling fish riding a wave. Estelle had just managed to fumble the scroll from Repede's collar by the time one was bold enough to haul her up by the elbow. A hand slammed down on the man's shoulder the second he had.

"Alright, that's it," Yuri said suddenly, finally. "Seriously, this had _better be good._"

Estelle touched his arm carefully.

"It's alright, Yuri," she managed. "I- I can wait. I'm alright. I think I understand… Maybe after the ceremony?"

She had attempted the same casual composure he made look so effortless, but there were still joyous, girlish tears caught in her lashes and her lips quirked constantly with a smile that didn't know how broad it should be.

It made Yuri blush, and wasn't that a breath-taking sight.

"Right," he managed. He cast his eyes carelessly aside, but a hand was lifted to hers. "After."

Estelle allowed herself to be lead away, all smiles.

Rita tried to tell her something about signals, but her stomach still ached from all that laughter. Karol was trying to explain just how long he'd searched, but her lips tingled pleasantly and she had to reach up to touch them to pin the feeling down. Her fingers felt awkward and clumsy compared to the memory of Yuri's kiss, and it wasn't until she glanced down contemplatively at her trembling hands that she remembered that she carried the Lost Records.

Head filled with clouds and the echoed voices of her worried friends, she unfurled the scroll.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Of all the times Karol had been forced into stupid, weird and embarrassing outfits, this was probably one of the worst. And that said something, because being forced into stupid, weird outfits was never a good thing.

The krityan monks had panicked when Judith never returned and, desperate for someone to replace her, they had fallen on Karol like piranhas and all but threw him into the waiting hands of the ceremony co-ordinators.

Being manhandled out of his guild gear and into strange ceremonial garb by a giggling flock of women was not something Karol was likely to forget. The sound of their twittering would haunt him forever.  
Some of them had been pretty, but they _definitely _laughed at all the wrong times, and Karol had felt violated when they had carelessly shoved him out of the apartment and onto the street.

The marble floor was freezing under his bare feet and Karol hopped about to spare his numbing toes.

They had forced him into an _enormous _pair of pants that flapped annoyingly at his ankles, made heavy by the panels of fashioned leather on each leg and bound at the waist with a big purple sash that was more decorative than functional. All they'd given him to wear above the waist was the world's smallest, gaudiest vest, and Karol would have stretched the spangled thing over his bare chest if he thought his pants would have stayed up without his death grip.

It was _horrible, _but it could have been worse.

Neither Judy nor Raven were anywhere to be seen for one thing. That in itself was a relief because they had gotten torturing him down to a fine art. Yuri, on the other hand, had been firmly told to stay out of the preparations. He had been forced from the apartment complex and directed towards the central stadium with every other spectator.

That left Estelle and Rita. Karol didn't worry too much about what they might say, because they were in the very same mess he was in. They had both burst out of the adjacent apartment in an explosion of babbling handmaidens, almost drowning under the groping hands that winched belts and pinned seams and tweaked necklines.

Rita fought her way free of the chaos violently. Karol wondered why she was making such a fuss. She looked really pretty in her long, ceremonial dress, all done-up like a lady. The only thing ruining the effect was _her_; she slapped away the brushes of makeup poked at her by the handmaidens and, embarrassingly, bundled up her flowing skirts scandalously high and threw them over an arm like a waiter would a dishcloth. Too much pale, slender leg flashed for decency when she stormed down the patio stairs and started yelling at the waiting contingent of monks.

Estelle was much more elegant in comparison. They'd draped her in layers of wafting, pearly gown that was being pinned in place by a metal crescent moon over her chest. She must have been used of the invasive primping. She remained calm through the assault, and with all that silver and grey swathing her in the scant light… well, she looked barely there at all. Kind of ghost-like and surreal.

The vision was broken when she peered over the heads of the ladies-in-waiting desperately. Karol had been too busy gaping at the expensive dress; he saw her face for the first time, and her blissful expression was completely gone.

"Karol!" she hissed urgently.

Karol reluctantly hitched his heavy pants higher and shuffled over to her.

"This sucks," he complained. "We've done this tons of times before… why do we have to get all dressed up just for Krones?"

Estelle shook her head at that and pressed something into his hand. It was the Lost Records.

"Please mind this, Karol! I haven't the room and… and I think we're in a lot of trouble," Estelle said in a conspirative hush.

"Trouble..?" Karol croaked, not even looking at the scroll.

"I did leave him behind after all! My brother, I mean," Estelle replied, horrified. "Well, not my _brother, _but it's still-"

The monks advanced on them hurriedly, driving the giggling handmaidens off with a few curt words. Estelle took the short moment of freedom to grip Karol by the shoulder and give him a determined little shake. Even when the monks began to push and pull them from the patio, she refused to let him go.

"I-I'll explain everything later, but please! If you see any kritya with-" – here she waggled her hand under her ear – "their antennae gone, you must tell Yuri! But be careful! A-and no matter what happens, you mustn't let him hurt anyone!" she said hurriedly. If Karol's stomach had been heavy with dread before, it plummeted in a cold rush now.

"_Hurt _anyone?" he babbled, but that was all the conversation the monks would let them have.

It all seemed to happen at once after that. An ear splitting horn blast rattled through the dome. Karol yelped and tried to leap back, but Rita was very suddenly there, nearly tripping them both over. She was swearing loudly because the monk behind her had collided with her, and the krityan behind him had done the same. The contingent was on the move.

It was walk forward or be trampled, and Karol allowed himself to be shepherded away from the apartments, kicking the trailing hems of his pants legs along as he went. He managed to peer over his shoulder once; Estelle had been engulfed in the entourage as completely as he and Rita had.

Karol swallowed thickly and, because he didn't know what else to do, he took the heavy Lost Records and wound them against his hip with the trailing length of sash.

He turned his eyes upwards.

Krones quivered. Karol shared the sentiment with a nervous shudder of his own.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Rita had never, _ever _had to work in such conditions.

She was a scientist. A scholar. She was a genius and an architect and mechanic, but if there was one thing she was _not_, it was a performer.

The central dome was an unpleasant memory because the last time they'd been in there, Alexei had been doing a damn good job of triggering a world-ending catastrophe. The massive glass infrastructure was brimming with people now, a semi-circle of reverant spectators that curved partway around the huge central mosaic.

Rita ran her bare hands down the front of her stupid dress, equally bare toes curling at the fact that _hundreds of people _were all watching her work. She didn't have her research journal at her back, her goggles had been confiscated and her favourite scarf had been traded in for an expensive looking sash over that ridiculous frock. She wasn't a performing monkey, dammit!

Karol, a handful of eager monks and Estelle were not doing too much better. They stood around the mosaic in the correct layout, looking nervous and dwarfed by the enormous chamber and the distant crowd. The princess (standing before her and looking disgustingly gorgeous) caught her eye and managed a reassuring smile. Estelle had always made this sort of stuff look easy.

"Sisters, Brothers and Honoured Guests!"

Some pompous, smarmy idiot was grandstanding behind her. Where she hated the needless attention and theatrics, he revelled in it; the kriyan man swept his arms wide and began his rehearsed speech in a booming voice that put Rita's teeth on edge. Her eyebrow twitched when he placed a patronising hand on her head as he paced past.

His dumb introduction went on like a bad, meandering joke.

Rita refused to listen. Instead, she turned her eyes upwards. The aer-driven elevator would probably never function again, so there was nothing but dead space past the glass roof of the chamber. The curving supports, swirling ocean and vibrating layers of Krones over the blastia twisted slowly in the weird, artificial light… it felt distorted, as if gravity could reverse at any moment and plummet them all up into Krones' shifting maw; Rita fought down a huge wave of vertigo and swallowed thickly.

She clenched her eyes shut and didn't open them again until her head had stopped spinning. It just made the echoing diatribe harder to ignore. Rita wondered then what Krones thought of all this pomp and frippery.

"Rita?"

Estelle had both slender arms out in a warm, welcoming gesture; the stance was for Krones, but the concerned look in her eye was for her young friend.

"I'm okay," Rita whispered back, then took her position as well. Her research panel flashed red as she prepared it for the conversion.

"-rewell to our Beloved Father! Let the Rite of Passing begin!"

That was her cue.

Rita tried to put the oceans of ogling people out of her mind when she started up the formula. But they were still there when she tapped into Estelle's internal formula, and they were still there when she keyed in Karol and every one of the monks as stabilisers.

They disappeared completely the minute she reached for the first tendril of Krones. The entelexeia had been waiting for her. In an unprecedented display of willing, the great being fed himself into her formula with an ease that startled her.

The most horrifying thing was the _feeling _of it, and Rita made a small noise of dismay when Krones turned his thoughts to her briefly as he passed. She felt it, like sudden drop in air-pressure, like a sharp change in direction. He examined her curiously, fondly, kindly, and just when Rita thought she'd be crushed under the weight of it, he took his focus away.

Rita sucked in a breath and desperately continued on the deconstruction.

It was worse after that. Krones was a beautiful, layered creature that had found unique and impossible ways to feed and channel aer through his many facets; each time Rita began to convert one string of Krones, she began to unravel another prematurely. He was too… _big. _Too complex. Too old.

Rita heard Estelle keen a little, failing under the strain and grasping after energy. That in turn made each and every one of the stabilisers grunt at the sudden tax on their strength. Rita drew back hurriedly from running two strings at once and, sweat blurring her vision, quickly readjusted the draw on Karol and the others.

It just pulled harder on Krones.

The room grew dark when the entelexeia suddenly compacted, shrivelling violently around the Shrine with a screech of glass and metal. The crowd cried out and screamed as the structure groaned. A metal girder buckled. Stone shook. The light dimmed in horrifying waves, crushed in measures.

Rita swore at the mistake and slammed a palm down on her panel. When she swept it to the side, she took a duplicate with it and fumbled in another formula with one hand while she maintained the original with the other.

Her lungs burned but there was no time to breathe. She took another section of Krones and drew it through the new formula hurriedly. It unravelled beautifully and stretched the entelexeia thin… thin and thinner like a piece of rubber drawn tight.

And then he simply shattered into crackling, dancing shards.

Estelle stumbled with relief but righted at the last second, arms still spread wide. Rita drew in a wobbly breath and blinked the stinging sweat out of her eyes. Done. It was easier now.

With Krones fizzing and spitting all around them in sparks of pure aer, it was like drawing wind in through a turbine. What remained of him rushed and danced through the conversion like lightening, so quick the formula skipped once or twice and shorted out both panels in terrifying jolts.

The code whirred too fast for Rita to follow, but it was running itself now. No, that was not quite true… Krones ran the formula, toying with it, and her, and the aer and the mana so quickly that Rita's heart hammered and her hands shook and every muscle twitched.  
He juggled it all joyously until there was no more Krones left… Just a floating, translucent orb that crackled under a jagged purple crown. It drifted between Estelle and Rita.

A pair of red eyes snapped open.

**I am done. Hurry, children. Places to be. Is it time? **He spoke like a shotgun, but not unkindly. He just made the air buzz with every darting look. Rita was shaking so bad she could barely stand. Estelle quivered in much the same way.

"D-don't you want a name?" the princess asked him breathlessly, even as little strings of lightning darted from his pulsing form and skittered over her slender body like fingers.

**Yes. Krones is stopped. A quick one, **the spirit replied eagerly. Estelle smiled and nodded. She raised her lovely face for a moment, swathed in the moonlight that suddenly streamed in from the unobstructed glass. Eventually, she opened her eyes and levelled them on the red-eyed being.

"Yes. K-Keeper of storms and the Rider of Time Almighty," she began, shaking all over. With one final smile, she finished, "Volt."

**Volt, **Volt repeated, and Rita could _hear _the grin. **Yes. My thanks. Time to fly.**

And as abruptly as that, he exploded.

Electricity sheared and arced through the dome in shards of white, scouring over the glass in sharp snapping motions… and then it was all over. He was gone.

Without the spirit's pulsing presence, the chamber was like a dead, sucking tomb. Rita's knees shook so horribly she could barely stand, and she definitely couldn't take the few tottering steps to reach Estelle. But she wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to collapse beside her best friend and just sleep.

"Right," Rita croaked instead, fighting the urge. "That's done. We're done. Mission accomplished."

Estelle nodded with a beatific smile.

"At least here I did a little good," she agreed with a whisper.

And as simply as that, Estelle gave Rita one final smile and crumpled to the stone in a cascade of shimmering pearl gauze, unconscious before she hit the ground.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: I'm on time after all! Also, forgive the backwards chapter - I stressed over the layout for a while, but decided I'm alright with it like this.  
It's been a long time since I've written _actual _mush, and Estelle is just too sweet on top of that. I hope it was stomachable.**


	15. Tremors

**15: Tremors**

**.**  
_oOo_  
.

By the time Karol fought his way out of the chaos, most of Myorzo had crammed themselves into the grand chamber. Every soul within twitched like puppets on the electric strings Krones had left behind, and they had jostled and battered him until he had felt black and blue with their enthusiasm.  
The guild master broke free of the crush with a gasp and staggered away. There was only one other not interested in the impromptu party, and the krityan man watched from the hall exit with cold, detached scorn.

With the wobbling steps of toddler, Karol made his way over to the decorative stone by the doors and sat down beside the stranger.

The man was sullenly silent despite the grin that was shot his way.

"Wow, you'd think they'd never seen a spirit before," Karol attempted when his ice-breaking smile fell flat. All he got in reply was a frosty silence.

Taking the hint, he turned his eyes back to the packed room.  
With the air still fizzing like a circuit board of rampant energy, there was a disturbing, hysterical edge to the joy. The small knots of dancing and jumping and embracing had lost its innocence and just felt out of control and dangerous.

"At least someone's happy," he mumbled to himself, not feeling particularly joyous or energetic himself. There was a sudden shift beside him.

"They act as if Krones was a festival attraction."

Karol jumped. There had been genuine venom in that simple statement; he faltered a moment, unsure of what he should say.

"Well… Those guys are pretty upset," he eventually offered, motioning to the other half of the chaotic mass. It wasn't hard to spot them in the swaying mass. They were the zealots, the monks and the fanatics, and they had formed a broiling knot of melodrama and misery at the centre of the room. Most wept, and the only thing that could be heard over the cheering was their wailing.

The krityan man lifted his head to watch them. The empty hallway grew frostier.

"_They _are histrionic brats," he said softly, acerbically. "They insult every one of us who have suffered the _true _loss of an Ancient."

Karol turned, confused and curious, to look at this sullen and mysterious man beside him.

The krityan was small for his people and not dressed in the usual robes and drapes. He was wearing Dahngrest leathers. Both hands were folded into the sleeves of his shirt and pressed insistently against his stomach as if he were in pain. It was weird to see the familiar clothes outside of the Guild City, but strange though it was, there was something else that continued to niggle at Karol's thoughts.  
He had been staring at the stranger for a long and awkward moment before he finally placed what was missing from the scene.

The man had no antennae. They had been severed just below the ear.

Karol jerked half up from his seat, but the krityan man reached over, took a fist full of spangled vest and then hauled him back down again. His hand had emerged and disappeared in a flash of silver.

"Don't bother," he said simply. "Sit down."

Karol fought the urge to shuffle further away.

"Not that I_ really _care which one of you I kill," the man continued with childish irritation, "but you're half dead already. Is this all they think I'm good for? Cutting up invalids? If that was the case, I could have done that thrice over during this ridiculous festival. It's insulting."

Karol opened his mouth to say something, but an embarrassing wheeze slipped free instead. He had to wait until the terror let his vocal chords go before trying again.

"You're the assassin," he said dumbly. "The one trying to kill Estelle. I was supposed to tell Yuri."

The krityan man barked out a sudden laugh, all teeth and no real humour.

"He'll find out soon enough."

It was strange, Karol thought, to be so close to so many people… yet so very alone in the same heart-rending moment. If he shouted, he wouldn't be heard over the noise. If the small man with the insane eyes attacked, Karol would probably be dead before anyone bothered to look their way and notice.

Karol was unarmed. His kit and guild gear were back in the apartments. He was still weak from some unknown poison and he was exhausted from a ritual that had chewed up every crackling wisp of energy he had left... Karol realised with a numb sense of wonder that he wasn't going to survive this.

It wasn't fair.

"She's going to be dead soon, you know," the man announced suddenly, conversationally. "Your precious Princess, I mean. I wanted to do it sooner, but Elis couldn't convince Krones. He was old and didn't understand the _levity _of her crimes."

There was a brittle pause, edged like a shard of fractured glass.

"But an Ancient is an Ancient, and we must obey. After all, Krones is gone now and your princess will be dead soon. No more waiting."

"Why are you doing this?" Karol finally whispered, voice lost past the hammering of his heart.

The krityan man simply broke into a slow and spiteful grin.

"Oh that's simple," he replied with a sneer. "I suppose we have time before Elis finishes off the traitorous bitch. Let me tell you something about _neglect…"_

.  
_oOo_  
.

Yuri shouldered his way through the very centre of the jostling mob, breathless not from the effort, but from the thought of what he might find in the middle.

The wailing monks surrounded Estelle at a fixed distance. It was crushing and protective, all in one. It didn't stop Yuri from giving a particularly vicious shove to the nearest monk when he broke through the ring and dropped down beside her.

Estelle shifted in his arms as lithely as a slip of silk, boneless and soft as he eased her carefully from the ground and across his lap.

Air passed through her lips like an afterthought. Her head lolled against his chest. One arm, unsupported, fell heavily and finally to the pooling silver silk on the floor. For one heart-stopping moment, she looked like was dead.

It wasn't until she slowly drew in a breath that Yuri realised he'd been holding his own.

"Is she alright?" asked an unfamiliar voice.

Smoothing out her tousled hair, Yuri glanced briefly over his shoulder.

It was the ceremony announcer from before, and he was staring down on them with a strange expression.

"She's fine," Yuri eventually replied. He felt compelled to add, "for now," when the monks crushed in closer still.

"Come," the announcer offered. He pushed a few kritya aside and motioned through the gap.

It took Yuri some time to slip his arms under Estelle to lift her. The dress fought him every step of the way; gaudy and over-the-top, it was so long and slippery that it was almost impossible to work his hands under it. Yuri fought it now, trying not to pay too much attention to how good it looked despite the annoyances, or about how the silk felt between his palms when they slid around her middle.

The crowd had packed in closer by the time Yuri had lifted her from the ground.

"Bring her this way. Follow me."

The trip through the main chamber was something that Yuri would never forget. The tall krityan announcer did his best to clear open a path through the mob, but every step just brought Estelle closer to new hands, each as grabby and desperate as the last. The few people that met his eyes suddenly backed away to make space, but most were staring at the pale and limp figure in his arms.

Yuri broke free of the crowd with a snarl, struggling forward a few steps until the last of them let go of the trailing silver lengths of Estelle's gown.

"This way," the announcer urged.

He led them away down a twisting set of glass corridors, shedding monks and dancers as they went. They were finally alone by the time the man opened a door into a dim room and ushered them in.

It was a dark, enclosed space. Someone with the aesthetic sense of a brick had tried to hide Zaudé's gothic architecture by covering it up with streamers, balloons and tapestries. A banner reading 'thank-you Child of the Full Moon!' had been stretched from one rafter to another.  
The kritya were grateful, at least.

The room was prepared for a party… but for now it was empty, quiet, and a hollow promise of things to come.

Yuri's feet echoed oddly as he strode across the tiles to where the tables and couches had been arranged. The clean plates and cutlery gleamed in the dim light, almost as brightly as the shimmering folds of Estelle's dress when he laid her gently across the length of the plush couch.

She stirred, eyelashes fluttering against the heights of her cheeks.

"Welcome back," Yuri grinned. A frown furrowed her brow as she tried to wake up.

"-uri?" Her voice was a dry whisper, cracking at the edges.

A glass of water hovered by Yuri's shoulder and he glanced past it up into the helpful face of the announcer. He took it with a nod of thanks and turned back to the wraith-like princess.

Estelle wilted against his shoulder when he eased her up into a sit, and she didn't respond very quickly when he bumped her lower lip with the edge of a glass.  
She eventually took a sip, then another, and only opened her eyes when half of the water was gone.

"I feel strange," she whispered, cheek against his collarbone.

"Yeah, Volt really did a number on you," Yuri replied. She opened her mouth to protest, and he took the opportunity to make her take another sip of water. "He shot off pretty damn fast once he got his name. You did good, Estelle. It couldn't have gone better."

She managed a smile at that.

The few moments of silence that followed were a relief, made better when the announcer took note of Yuri's pointed look and tactfully retreated to the exit.

Estelle watched the silent exchange with empty eyes. When the door clicked respectfully close, she turned them to Yuri and managed a shy smile that he forgot to return.

The way she had reclined on the couch and partly against his shoulder had made her figure settle in a way that was all soft lines and curves. The light was harsh on the rise of her hip and across every delicate fold of the silk; her skin caught it with a slow glow in comparison. The contrast was weirdly intoxicating, and Yuri drank what remained of the water just to slake his suddenly dry mouth.

She was still Estelle. The same old Estelle.

There was no denying that this was very new for both of them.

He peered at the empty glass and turned it in his palm, watching the light catch and split as the princess moved slowly and weakly from his shoulder. She eased herself back to the couch as if moving through treacle and then slumped against the arm-rest with a worrying finality.

He let her rest while he gathered his thoughts.

Yuri distracted himself by hunting down a chair and pulling it up to the couch-side, but then all that was left was a lingering sense of trepidation and Estelle, so still she might have been asleep. He watched her thoughtfully, mulling over this abrupt change of situation. He ran a hand through his hair. With a sigh, he dropped it to the couch's arm rest where he began plucking disinterestedly at a loose thread on the stitching.

By the time he'd drawn a few inches of the frayed end free, he had managed to wrangle the words he wanted to use into a complete sentence.

"You sure do have a way of keeping me on my toes," he began aloud, tugging at the thread until it came free. "Of all the questions you had to ask me… Can't say I was expecting that one."

Estelle opened her eyes and gazed up at the ceiling.

"Just figured you'd ask, huh?" he said next in a carefree tone. He winced when it came out callous instead.

Estelle lifted a hand slowly to his chest and gave it a comforting pat.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know and I wanted to," she said serenely, calmly. She was so relaxed and he was rolling the stitching thread between his fingers. It was such a supreme role reversal that Yuri had to grin at that, even if it came out lopsided and strained.

He ran a hand through his hair again, infinitely aware that he had never actually answered her question.

"Yeah, well… I'm kinda insulted you needed to ask in the first place," was his gutless excuse for an answer.

They weren't the _exact _words she was looking for… but Estelle closed her eyes and smiled beatifically anyway, her hair mauve in the bluish light as it curled over her cheek.

It was moments like these that had been such a burden over the years. With a startling flash, Yuri realised that it didn't have to be a burden any longer. It was an impulse he didn't _have _to control, and the freedom of it all made him suddenly light-headed.

She barely stirred when he kissed her.

Her fingers were light on his shoulder, and he hadn't realised he'd dropped a hand to her waist until she shifted under him in a subtle wave of silk. Without the crowd screaming and singing and laughing around them, Yuri heard sound of their lips for the first time and the warmth of her breath in the cold room. The silk creaked quietly when his fist bunched it tightly between his fingers.

This wasn't how he'd imagined it, but it was better anyway.

Estelle's fingers quested between their lips and she pushed lightly away.

"Yuri?"

He mumbled something and attempted to nudge her hand away.

"Yuri," she breathed again,"I… I think I've done something terrible."

"You?" he muttered against her fingertips. "This outta be good."

"It's about Brave Vesperia."

Frigid room aside, the tone in her voice was like a trickle of icy water down Yuri's spine. He pulled back a little and blinked his hazy vision.

She looked boneless when her hand dropped away from his mouth and to her side. She looked old beyond her years when she turned her face to stare remorsefully out of the window.

Suddenly the silence wasn't such a pleasant thing.

"Estelle?"

"I learnt a little bit about the Geraios today, thanks to the Records," she confessed huskily, "and about what it once meant to be the Child of the Full Moon."

Yuri straightened slowly, cautiously.

"The Geraios," she went on, "used to worship the entelexeia as if they were gods. It sort of makes sense that they hated my ancestors because of the formula we carry within us. But we had a role to play, I think, just like the Ancient entelexeia."

Yuri didn't see the relevance of a history lesson, and frankly, he didn't care much either. But the dark shadow in Estelle's eyes meant it mattered to _her_, so took a deep breath in and held his tongue.

She broke the stretching silence with a question.

"Do you remember what happened here at Zaudé three years ago?"

Yuri hadn't forgotten. Some recollections were sharper than others: Flynn falling to the ground with a wound through the shoulder, the confidence and control falling clean off Alexei's face and the final view of the blastia as Yuri fell from the peak, mottled with his own blood…  
So much falling in one day. It was easy to forget the most important one.

"Alexei disabled Brave Vesperia," Estelle sighed, "and the Adephagos eventually tore down and destroyed the facility here. Between them they caused so much damage… No, I suppose from the outside it must have looked like _we _caused it. Maybe we had, in a way."

"Estelle, what are you talking about?" Yuri asked cautiously, recognising the tone in her voice.

"Do you know who maintains blastia, Yuri?"

She was fading. He had barely heard her that time.

"Sure," he eventually replied. "The Mages of Aspio do. People like Rita, I guess."

"And before that?"

Yuri stared at her, surprised to realise that he'd never thought about it before.

"Wasn't Judy's dad some sort of hotshot blastia researcher? I suppose the kritya had something to do with it."

"They did. When they were still called the Geraios, the kritya had technicians. Some of them were even entelexeia, because they were so good at maintaining the flow of aer."

And it was true. Duke and the crimson Dein Nomos weren't the only things able to settle down an overloading blastia or krene... Khroma and Gusios had done that job as well, eating the rampant aer when it went haywire. Yuri rubbed his numbing hands together. He had a vague idea where this was headed…

Estelle breathed out slowly, pausing uncomfortably long before inhaling again.

"His name was Ragnus, I believe. He was an… entelexeia that was to… maintain Brave Vesperia while it was so far away. The Geraios didn't send him away lightly… The facility here was... I was to use Zaudé to bring him home when the barrier was no longer needed. That was our – my – duty as the surviving Child of the Full… Moon."

For something so simple, it hardly felt real.

"You're saying there's been an entelexeia up there all this time? Surviving on what? _Aer?_ It sounds like a bad joke to me," Yuri managed with a forced grin. The silence he got in reply was so empty it felt like an accusation.

"C'mon, even if some crackpot historian wasn't making all this up," he attempted next, "the people who put him there have checked out centuries ago. You don't owe them anything, Estelle. Duty be damned, it has nothing to do with you."

Estelle didn't say anything, and it wasn't until then that Yuri realised she wasn't blinking.

It wasn't until then that he realised he couldn't feel his own feet.

He reached out with a hand that he could barely feel and tried to grip her shoulder. His fingers wouldn't close over the cold flesh. His elbow felt awkward and heavy. A fully functioning arm wouldn't have made much of a difference; one bumbling nudge was enough to cause Estelle's head loll to the side, eyes glassy and her face slack and white and still.

The empty water glass shattered on the floor when Yuri lurched to his feet. The head-spin nearly dropped him again.

"-should be about time… And remember, careful. Lowell's a handful."

The man that slipped into the room was a familiar face. The ceremony announcer returned to the empty room with a group of robed, armed kritya behind him. They bore their weapons fearfully; the assortment of blades and bludgeons bristled at the doorway and hovered there, cautious.

Yuri gripped the edge of the couch and tried to remain upright. He couldn't hide the sway, and when his numb hand gave out under his weight, his stagger gave him away entirely.

The announcer heaved a relieved sigh and straightened from his cowardly crouch.

"A glass of… water," Yuri managed with a feral grin. "Real cute."

"Paralysis extract, apparently. Wasn't expecting you to drink it too," the krityan man replied honestly. "That makes things easier. Hop to it boys, it'll be hard for him to swing a sword like that."

_You're telling me.._. They came at him with arrogant confidence, no longer afraid. Yuri's sword hung at his hip by its leather strap, but he didn't trust his hands to grip it tightly enough to be effective...

That's why the first man to reach for him caught his plated glove in the teeth. It was a weak punch, off target and crude. But metal was metal, and the man's head snapped back as he spat chips of teeth and blood. Yuri tipped forward with inertia, but managed to use the loss of balance; he caught the thug in the chest with his shoulder and sent him stumbling.

The monk crashed into another kritya with a club behind him and they careened into a dinner-table together.

The wood snapped under the weight, dumping body, cutlery, plates and crystal glasses on the stone floor. Most of it shattered like so many shards of ice across the stone. That was an advantage too. Before they could catch up, Yuri gripped the nearest chair and swung it viciously at them. It missed most of the assailants, but one wooden leg managed to catch an over-eager monk a shearing blow across his throat. His wheezed cry drove the others back a few steps. He hadn't given them the chance to think about it. The barefooted monks skittered back across the shards of glass and china on the floor with an audible series of wet crunches.

"This is ridiculous," the announcer said behind the screaming.

Yuri grinned darkly. The sight of it made the announcer narrow his eyes, and that just made the grin darker. Yuri caught himself on the couch and, satisfied the monks were at least a little distracted, spared Estelle a glance.

She was exactly as he'd left her, untouched and frozen.

He shouldn't have let his focus slip. The club had been badly swung and it missed his skull with a whistle that ended with a sickening _crack_. Pain exploded up one side of his neck. Yuri dropped to a knee as one arm fell abruptly to his side like dead weight. He didn't bother trying to move it. He swung the good one out in a blind punch, and was lucky enough to catch someone in the gut with enough force to drive the air from their lungs. The victory was hollow. There was more than one man behind him.

The second kicked him viciously in the small of the back and Yuri hit the stone floor with a grunt.

The stone was cold under his numbing cheek. Beyond the sight of his own hair a pool of black on the floor, the room spun furiously past the white dots in his vision, and it was through that chaos that the Announcer approached.  
The krityan man delicately picked his way through the shattered china and glass and glared unsympathetically at the whimpering monks.

Yuri tried to heave himself from the floor, but his unseen attacker put a bare foot to his back and forced him down again. His collarbone shrieked with agony, and the white spots went black.

"You're a frightening man, Lowell," the announcer admitted as he hunkered down beside him.

"You haven't… seen the _half… _of it," Yuri slurred, trying to focus his hatred into a glare.

"I don't think I have," the man agreed. He rubbed his smooth chin for a moment, then shrugged and held out a hand he knew couldn't be taken. "I'm Jerard, by the way. Keeper of the Geraios Lost Records. And don't give me that look, I'm just following orders. I wasn't the one that _poisoned _her, that's not my style. Too subtle."

"Dahngrest." The word slipped out of Yuri's lungs by coincidence – the man pinning him had pressed his heel down. 'Jerard' brightened suddenly.

"Oh you remember? Yeah, the fireworks were all me. A work of art even if I do say so myself. But I won't bore you with the finer points of my artistic vision, and I _am _running on a schedule here. I'm afraid we'll have to hurry this along, Lowell."

"If you so… much as lay a _finger _on her…" Yuri threatened when they suddenly hauled him to his feet.

Jerard's eyes slid to the still, silver form on the couch and he shrugged amicably.

"We won't lay a finger on her," he promised. "She can just stay there, promise. You, on the other hand, are coming with us."

It was so unexpected that Yuri could only blink the white lights from his eyes and stare at Estelle. He watched her chest rise and fall in tiny, weak little breaths. When the monk behind him dropped a hand on his fractured collarbone, he snarled and tore himself away with a jerk. He managed half a spin and one vicious kick to the man's kneecap – the _crack _was satisfying - before the monks threw themselves on him again.

It wasn't until they had wrangled him into submission that Jerard dared to step closer and give him a pitying pat on his good shoulder.

When they hauled him from the room, Yuri tried to turn to see Estelle. Good on their word, they left her there, frozen and silent in the echoing room. She looked like stone under the blue light from the only window, and that was the last image Yuri had of her before he was forced through the door and it was shut reverently after them.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Karol swallowed thickly.

"-and even if the whole world has forgotten the ways of the Geraios, we haven't forgotten the world no matter how broken and ugly it is. And you can't escape a dynasty that built this godforsaken kingdom from the filthy ground up. The Ancients will be heard. Justice will be done."

Karol heaved in one single breath and held it as long as he could. His hands were slick with sweat when he ran them nervously down his thighs, but he didn't want the krityan man to see that they were shaking.  
He licked his lips and exhaled, trying to be careful with his words.

"The Geraios have been gone forever… you can't just… come _back_," he attempted, rising slowly to his feet.

The krityan man rose with him, unfolding his arms finally and clenching both metal-plated fists.

"And why not?" he spat. "Your Empire's corrupt War did its best to wipe us out! Temza still bares the scars of their cowardly attempt! You almost succeeded, but _Elis saved us. _And now there's nothing that your princess, her Empire of greed or her trained dogs can do to stop us from correcting what is wrong."

"You're crazy! None of that is true!" Karol yelled, knowing it sounded childish but not caring.

Judith did say that the people of Temza were destroyed by the Great War, but she never said the people of Temza had been anything other than blastia researchers. That they could have been keepers of an ancient culture was insane. There should have been nothing left of them but bad mistakes and ancient ruins.

Karol hadn't paid _much _attention to Rita or Estelle when they had talked about the ancient civilisation, but there was one thing he _did _know, and surely that explained everything.

The Geraios had created and then contained the Adephagos. A people that swept a world-scale disaster under a global rug for someone else to deal with were the very kind of people who would shirk every responsibility they possessed. To blame the Empire for what happened at Temza was one thing, but to make Estelle the figurehead for that catastrophe was another thing entirely. What had been done to Brave Vesperia had been done centuries before she had been born.

Karol didn't even know where to begin explaining such a thing to this mad little krityan.

"I don't know who told you all that stuff about Estelle," he whispered, "but it isn't true."

"Elis said you'd lie," the krityan man with the mutilated antennae replied softly. He sneered suddenly and reached forward. Karol yelped when his gaudy little vest was gripped, and the sharp plates of metal scored small cuts down his chest when he did.

The krityan man hauled him away from the chamber a few steps and gave him a rough shake.

"We were told to remove you from these halls," he hissed, "and as much as I'd like to just kill you know, you're coming with me."

Karol's bare feet slapped and slithered across the stone as the tiny little man with the mad eyes towed him effortlessly away down the corridor.

"Where are we going?" Karol managed, trying to shrug out of his stupid little vest and failing.

"Away from the Child of the Full Moon," was the terse reply. "Don't worry, all your friends are being gathered up. Elis has a statement to make."

They struggled on and upwards, towards the shrine top. It wasn't until they had neared the sea-level that the krityan man suddenly slowed, and Karol squirmed for a moment before following his gaze through the glass walls and water. Without Krones absorbing most of the daylight, the sun was a shimmering blob of light on the distant waves. Beside it was something else, red enough to stain the water like corrosive rust.

Brave Vesperia was still burning.

In a voice heavier than a toppled tombstone, the krityan man said,

"She will finally know what it's like to be alone and left to rot."

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: It's hard to justify a break like that! Needless to say 2010 kicked me in the teeth in many ways, and 2011 is a great big mystery pie. I shall write when and where I can, but things may get erratic. This makes me very sad.**

**In other news, this was not the chapter I wanted to produce, but it is the chapter that happened. Sometimes you just need to shove it out the door and move on. Also, as you may have noticed, I'm a lore nut. I've tried very hard to be true, but the game can be less than clear with its histories... I'd be grateful to any observant readers if you find any discrepencies!**


	16. Things That Glow

**16: Things that Glow**

.  
_oOo_  
.

"Wow, do you think he's dead?"

It was a great mystery. Raven wasn't sure if he knew, either.

"Nah, can't be," came another young voice. "I never got my go. Didn't he promise?"

"Yeah and look, he moves when you poke him," replied the girlish voice of reason. Sure enough, a sharp jab to the ribs reminded Raven that he was very much alive.

It wasn't the first time he'd woken up in a strange place, and as far as strange places went, a cold stone floor was like an old familiar friend. On the other hand, it wasn't often that he'd woken up to a sharp stick to the ribs, and it was definitely not normal to have absolutely _no_ recollection of passing out in the first place.  
One minute he'd been slinking along after a pair of suspicious kritya, then next…

Raven groaned and cracked open an eyelid. A host of small curious faces all peered back.

"Hey, are you dead, mister?" demanded the first krityan child.

"Yep," Raven replied with a croak. He winced when every child looming over him fell back in horror. "I'm _kiddin'_," he amended glumly. "That bad, huh?"

"Yes," was the universal reply. A shy little boy up the back added, "You have this thing in your chest."

It was just the right type of dread to chase the confusion away. Raven lurched up instantly and clapped a hand over his replacement heart with a _thwap_.

It only took a moment to realise that it was too sizzling hot to touch. And while he furiously flapped his blistered hand, he then realised that the blastia had burnt a neat hole right through his shirt. Plucking what remained of the fabric free of the metal, he waggled a finger through the blackened gap before grimacing.  
He'd liked that shirt.

"So are you dead?" the first child repeated curiously.

Raven carefully pulled his jacket over to hide the exposed blastia.

"Nah, that's just an old war scar," was all he could think to say, and to his great surprise, the children nodded sagely and said no more.

He felt every one of his years (and a few more besides) when he hauled himself to his feet. It was bad enough that most of Myorzo's youth had clapped eyes on his twisted little secret, but blacking out in the middle of important subterfuge?  
The hallway was empty. The woman he had been following was long gone.

Raven swore softly to himself.

"Well that ain't good… Hey, kids," he began carefully, scratching at the stubble on his chin, "ya wouldn't happen ta know someone 'round here that goes by the name of Elis, would ya? Not ringin' any bells? Human lady? Short hair, kinda thin, a bit on the scary side?"

It was a long shot, but it paid off when they all nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yeah, her."

"Everyone's seen her."

"She _is _scary! Gives me the shivers."

"She's in the big hall still, right?"  
Raven rubbed his hands cajolingly and leant in closer.

"Saaaaay," he drawled, "you couldn't do this old man a favour and take me ta where she might be, wouldja? Sure save me a whole lotta trouble if ya did, that's fer sure."

They agreed with such enthusiasm that Raven had to swallow a surge of guilt. It was the quickest way to get back on track, he reasoned, and they clearly knew the city like the backs of their small and sticky hands.  
The hardest part was keeping up with them. They slipped in and out of the building crowds like a school of fish, impervious that Raven had to shoulder his way through the masses they so deftly dodged. Harder still that his blast-heart was still boiling each and every pulse of his blood, stuttering and skipping as if it couldn't settle on a rhythm. He had bunched up enough of his jacket to press it down on the unstable thing when they finally left the tunnels and made it to the master dome.

It was emptying before their eyes, and they had to squeeze past lines of kritya to get inside. Raven scanned each face that passed, looking for that one cold, pinched expression in an ocean of dazed joy. He was peering short-sightedly across the expanse when a small hand latched on to his jacket and tugged violently.

"There! See? Told you she was here!"

They pointed tactlessly, bold as brass. Raven squinted across the room, but he couldn't find the crop of dark hair that he'd been following for the past few hours.

"Right," was all he managed, dubious.

And then one of the children grew impatient and stormed over to a slender woman in a flowing dress. He slapped her on the back with as much force as he could muster.

"Right here, stupid!" he all but shouted, a disgrace to spies everywhere. The woman righted from her stumble and spun around, swearing.

Raven's breath chose that moment to abandon ship.

"W-what the _hell_?" Rita demanded, startled and furious because of it.

"See?" the boy called back to Raven, "scary, right?"

Raven didn't know whether he should laugh or make a break for it.

_Human lady. Short hair, kinda thin, a bit on the scary side, _he thought, falling back a step just as a strangled chuckle broke through. It died instantly when Rita glanced up and caught sight of him.

Bad description, Raven had to concede, if the kids could confuse the sour, emancipated Elis with _this. _His fault. Should have been clearer.

"Oh," Rita managed, actually looking relieved to see him. "It's you."

Some clever krityan with an eye for colour had made Rita into the lady she had always denied she could be. The robe was a simple thing; it graduated from a deep turquoise at the trailing hem to an almost lemongrass green at the neckline, cinched at the waist by an embroidered sash.  
She stood there for a moment like a picture before she reluctantly hitched her flowing skirts up and tottered over like a newborn calf. Raven tried to back away. He nearly fell over one of the children huddling behind him.

"Do you have _any _idea how long I've been standing around waiting for these idiots to get the hint and take their stupid dance someplace else?" Rita was complaining. "The others just took off as well, and I'm _really_ worried about Estelle. You haven't seen her have you?"

He was openly staring, he knew it, but couldn't stop himself. She eyed him suspiciously at the lack of reply and when realisation finally set in, she unsurprisingly got the wrong idea.

"Don't. Laugh," she ground out with a ferocious glare.

"Tryin' my best," he lied, acutely aware that it was time for him to _leave_. He had almost managed the first step before the sullen little girl with her hair in braids attached herself to his knee. She said plaintively,

"We found a lady for you like you said. Can we go now?"

"... Oh that's low," Rita eventually managed with a disgusted sneer. "Really? Using kids to pick up girls now? Wish I could say I was surprised, Old Man, but that particular brand of Lame is _all_ you."

"Bad kids. Very bad. Wrong scary lady," Raven croaked. The children groaned in defeat and Rita flushed vibrantly with rage.

"We'll get her next time!" the angry boy promised with a feral look. He exchanged looks with his equally angry friend before they both tore off into the crowds. Raven swallowed thickly. Maybe using children to hunt down a dangerous insurgent wasn't such a great idea after all.

He was feeling more than a little beleaguered when he noticed that Rita was staring at him. It was that same old smouldering glare, but there was a mote of curiosity in it now. She rubbed distractedly at the naked expanse of her neck where her bohdi blastia usually sat and eyed him up suspiciously.

"You look like crap, by the way," she declared ruthlessly. Half a second later, her eyes dipped lower and the suspicion in her eyes turned sharp and avid and knowing.  
She didn't have to say anything. That fire in her eyes was all too familiar and much too late, he surreptitiously tried to jerk his jacket close over his simmering blastia.

"Uh, ix-nay in front of the ids-kay, darlin'," he attempted, trying to take a step back and actually stumbling over the girl this time. Rita's hand shot forward and she caught him by the elbow.

"Of course, Volt," she said sharply, ignoring him completely. "The network of aer flow would have redistributed for the new node and he's already proven to conduit with Undine effectively... Who knows what it did to your formula. Pain?"

"Maybe?" Raven evaded nervously. He yelped when she abruptly jerked his shirt aside. Every squirming, hunching attempt at hiding his blastia from public eyes just made Rita draw in closer.

"If you hadn't been chasing skirts like a pervert," she finally said in a low voice. "I'd have been close enough to have done something. Look at all that heat damage… You came damn close to overloading completely, you know. I hope all that _sleazing_ was worth it…"

"Yeah. Worth it," Raven echoed dumbly. She was close enough to radiate warmth, and the view was shockingly pleasant. He had already memorised the shape of her collarbone before he realised he was probably staring. There was the insistent tugging at his jacket ends to wonder about, but it wasn't until a small finger jabbed him in the kidney that he tore his eyes away.

"I guess this one is no good, huh?" the little girl attached to his knee said. "Do you want us to find you another lady?"

Kids say the damndest things, sometimes.

"Tha- Whu- Thi- You!" Rita sputtered, going so red it flushed across her cheeks and spread to her ears. Rage was such a familiar thing on her features. It was easy enough to tell just what kind of fury it was from the tweak of an eyebrow, the pinch of her lips or even the crinkle of her nose. Hell, Raven figured that he'd probably invented a few kinds for her himself.

But this one was new. She looked as horrified as she was infuriated, and the twins took one look at her slack jaw before making the mistake of laughing in terrible unison.

The distress in her eyes evaporated in liquid turquoise hellfire.

Raven wobbled when every child in the vicinity pressed in against his knees.

"Now, Rita honey, yer scarin' the kids," he attempted as they cowered.

It _might _have been the wrong thing to say. She bridled instantly, glowing with the mana she was unconsciously channelling. It flared when she took one deathly step forward and thundered, "_SCRAM_," so loud that it echoed.

The children fled, screaming.

Everyone in earshot was unabashedly ogling them now. Rita didn't even notice when she gave Raven's arm such a violent jerk that he nearly careened into her.

"I'm too damn tired to deal, you lecherous bastard," she snapped, nose-to-nose. She held that glare for one breathless moment before her blush suddenly intensified and she gave him a rough shove away. "A-and you know what? I don't have _time _for all this crap, so do us both a favour and just shut the hell up while I ran a _damn _diagnostic on your stupid damn blastia!"

"But, uh... Let's just calm down, sweetheart, no need ta be hasty-" he began, then recoiled from the wrath in her eyes. A little more desperately, he continued, "C'mon Rita-darlin'. Use yer head for a second... R_ight here_?"

Her eyes darted sideways as if she saw the gawping crowd for the first time. There was a horrible moment where he thought she wouldn't give a damn who saw the complex piece of metal embedded in his chest, but she swore suddenly and turned away. Before he could escape, she gripped an elbow and dragged him along with her.

He could have resisted. It wouldn't have been hard. He could have shrugged free and gone somewhere else like he knew he should have… but there was an edge to her temper that was dangerously twisted. She was wound tight, tighter than he'd ever seen her.

It fuelled every lengthy stride, and it wasn't long before Rita had stormed them both through the underwater city and to the apartments. He spent the trip trying to avoid stepping on her very pretty and becoming dress, and she spent the entire time ranting to herself. It was all strictly work related in a manic, desperate way, and within moments the tirade had become so technical that it might not have been English at all.

She was still muttering to herself when she hauled him up the steps, through the apartment door, across the clothes strewn carpet and to the sitting room.

"-and of course, any percentage of _Laytos _within a looped condition will have to be recalibrated- SIT - with the inbuilt levels of _Strihm _that Volt channels through the network strata-"

The clipped command had been lost mid ramble. Raven realised this too late when he was shoved unceremoniously towards the coffee table. It was sit on it or crash over it. He managed the former, but not gracefully.

He was still trying to right himself when Rita dragged a chair over, hitched up her skirts over her knees and scooted her seat much, much too close for comfort. He had been gawping at the startling flash of thigh when she reached over and slapped both of his hands away from his jacket.

"Hold still," she commanded, opening up her research panel.

It was bad enough to see his elevated heartbeat mapped out in lines of glowing text. It was even worse to see her through the luminous lines, bare-shouldered and as oblivious as she was stunning.

His scrolling heartbeat picked up again, clear as day for all to see. Raven lifted his eyes to the ceiling with a grimace.

How had he wound up here again? Wasn't he doing something? Something important?

Something about a dangerous insurgent... Trying to focus on anything other than the mage hunched over his chest was a lost cause. He counted the rafters instead, but the numbers fled when she dropped a hand to his shoulder with perfect familiarity and pressed down. She did it to keep him still, but the pressure was weirdly personal. He forgot about the rafters entirely when she said something else irritable and impatient that he didn't hear; he felt it instead, a warm gust against exposed skin.

He forgot to breathe when, with a sudden shift, she scooted her chair closer until she had trapped one of his knees between hers.

_You're killin' me here, Rita._

She jerked her head up so suddenly she nearly cracked his chin with her forehead. Raven blinked, shocked. Well damn. He'd said it aloud.

"What, are you five?" she managed, flushed all over again. "I haven't even _started_ yet, for crying out loud. A diagnostic can't _kill _you. I'm just going to look, so shut up and sit still!"

Yep. Straight over her head.

But whatever world she'd been lost in had been broken by his interruption. She visibly fought to organise herself again and failed, eyes glazing over. The moment stretched out long until she finally dismissed the panel with a sharp slash of her hand and reached instead to push his shirt aside.

He shifted uncomfortably but she didn't notice. She didn't notice anything at all, because the minute she clapped eyes on the curling seed of metal, her eyes unfocused and went distant and very blank.

Rita Mordio was gaping at his hermes blastia as if she was staring through it and at something shocking in the distance.

She groped blindly for her goggles – a classic sign of frustration – and it took her surprisingly long to realise they weren't on her head. She patted her front for her tools, fumbled at the small of her back for her research book and then threw her hands up so suddenly that Raven ducked.

"Dammit!" Rita fumed. "This is why I didn't want to wear this freaking thing in the first place! Just... Just stay there while I go change. And you better have dropped the melodrama and manned the hell up by the time I get back, or else! I mean it! Move and you're dead!"

And as abruptly as that, she shoved her own chair aside with a violent clatter and stormed across the room towards the staircase. Raven held his breath through each irate stomp of her bare feet on the floorboards.

Her progress was a cacophony of violent thumps and thuds across the ceiling that ended with the slam of the door.

Whatever willpower Raven had possessed over the years had been born of entirely out of cowardice. The fraying strands of it had been holding together for fear of death – Rita was volatile enough to _actually _have killed him – but they snapped now in the calm, dead silence.

He was on his feet and heading for the exit before the dust had settled.

"Sorry to disappoint, sweetheart," Raven muttered as he reached for the doorknob. "But every man has his limit."

The metal in his hand was so cold it was jarring. He gripped it gratefully for a moment to clear his foggy head, and it was that brief moment of respite that probably saved him.

It was into that half second of stillness that he heard the soft sounds on the patio.

Footsteps. Hushed, lowered voices. The sounds of poorly orchestrated stealth.

Raven very, very carefully let go of the doorknob and took a step back. Now that he was paying attention, he could hear them in mass outside, creeping closer and whispering amongst themselves furiously.  
The ex-spy caught snippets through the wood: 'spread out', 'keep quiet' and 'quit pushing' were higher in volume, but 'out-number her', 'bring the mage alive' and 'element of surprise' rang much, much louder in comparison.

Raven swept his eyes over the quiet room, listening to a badly planned ambush come together.

Now, if _Judith _had have been there, she'd have welcomed the fight with an oh-so-beautiful smile and a flirtatious flourish. Karol would probably have grabbed the girl, bolted out the backdoor and not stopped running until he had cleared the city. Yuri would have taken it personally of course, and would have ambushed the ambushers out of spite.

But Raven had his own style.

And as the sounds on the patio started to advance on the door, he didn't have the time to wonder if his decision was the right one.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Rita had slammed the door shut with enough force to buckle one of the hinges; she swore at it with every blistering scrap of venom she possessed. It wasn't like a door could defend itself, so she spun away from it and stormed a short circuit around the room to clear the vaguely summery scent from her nostrils.

Her _hands _wouldn't stop shaking. She curled them into fists, spread them wide and flat, cracked every knuckle with methodical efficiency and even gave them an irate shake. Nothing worked.

Rita gave up on them and struggled out of her dumb dress instead, hearing something rip when she dragged it over her head and simply not giving a damn. It was flung to the floor with a heavy _thwap_, and she kicked it across the room for good measure.

What the hell was wrong with her?

She'd worked until she'd passed out before. She'd struggled through more complex problems in the past and she had channelled energy until her ears buzzed more often than she could count...But she'd never been like this. No matter what she had done to herself over the years, she'd _never _lost focus. Not once.

So what the hell was it about that scruffy, perverted, useless lump of wasted space downstairs that made her every thought as slippery as the last?

Rita dressed hurriedly. She still felt over-heated and flushed in her comfortable old research jacket, still felt vague and anxious when she tugged her scarf tight around her middle. Her weathered gloves didn't hide the trembling in the least.

Rita snapped her goggles back into place with a snarl.

And she had _actually _been glad to see him. It had been shocking to realise that, but who could blame her? The world was going to hell, she'd spent an hour too weak to escape the dancing mob and during all that time, she hadn't seen a single friendly face. Any one of her friends would have been a sight for sore eyes... but he had been there, and she was feeling messed up and exhausted and stressed. It was normal to be relieved.

And even though she would never, _ever_ admit it, Rita could have used some of Raven's stupid folksy philosophy to make it all less... messy. It was all he was good for, after all.

But apparently he'd run out of sagely, old-man insights and corny poetic advice. Apparently he was too busy with his army of girl-scouting brats.

Rita found herself glaring at the door again and its one intact hinge. She had the irrational urge to blow it out of the doorframe, but that was just stupid. Stupid waste of energy. Stupid waste of a perfectly functioning door. She had to focus.

She spent a moment thinking logical, sensible thoughts to herself in a bid to calm down, then when she felt sufficiently rational, she forced herself to leave the room and head downstairs to face the heady scent of summer.

All of that calm and rationality left her in a rush when she found the room completely empty and utterly silent. It was relief and insult in one tangled, hand-shaking mess.

"… I'm going to kill him," she told the silence decisively. That didn't quite sum it up, so she continued, "And you know what? No one would blame me. I'll be doing the world a favour. Seriously." Another strangled pause. "...I mean, what the _hell. _Was it really that bad? And why the hell am I surprised? I should have known! Of all the brain-dread, sleazy, _gutless, _no-good, lying son of a-"

She was never able to finish that rant. She choked on the last of it, suddenly engulfed by a large pair of arms.

She gagged out half of an expletive before the fully grown man behind her constricted his arms around her ribs; the air tore itself from her throat with an embarrassing wheeze, so she was struggling to inhale when the room erupted into chaos. Where had all the monks come from?

She'd been so busy staring at the vacant sitting room that she hadn't noticed the hall. There were a dozen of them, all lunging at her and she could barely breath, let alone chant out a spell.

They were all too eager, too quick to grab at her. Rita bunched her frustration in her gut and coiled it tight. She let it curl her up in that suffocating bear-hug just enough to get that little bit of height... and when the idiot monks were close enough, she kicked out. One monk slammed face-first into her first vicious kick, still running forward. The second caught the capped toe of her boot squarely in the ribs. The third yelped and leapt back when she tried to drive her heel into his groin. The advance fell to pieces, and Rita used the pause to wriggle herself a little higher. Most of her ribs were free of the crush – she'd sucked in half a lung-full before she figured that be enough to start.

_Fireball _began to etch itself into the air as she built it.

"Help!" the man behind her wailed, terrified. He grappled her enough to squeeze the spell dead, but the moron had leant in to do it... Rita snarled and snapped her head back.

She heard the clack of teeth and a bloody gargle.

He dropped her to the floor with a thud as he pawed uselessly at his dripping mouth. Rita scrabbled forward and ducked past the closest monk.

"Grab her!"

They groped after her like mouth-breathing thugs. Rita was just the right height to duck low and she did, swooping under out flung arms to get towards the door. If she just had some breathing room for a really big spell...

One of them barred her way with both arms wide as if she were a bolting quietta. She clattered up and over the coffee table instead, reaching for another spell. _Spread Zero_ sprung to her lips instantly, but that was all wrong. She'd never recalibrated it from aer to mana. Rita was muttering the old incantation uselessly as she doubled around and tried again for the door.

What else was there? _Wallis, Champagne, Descartes..._Rita was still filing through old, forgotten spells when she pulled her journal free. Not _Phi _or_ Tractor Beam, _she realised as she ducked again to the left.

The next monk to reach for her caught the spine right in the solar-plexus. When he doubled up, she brought the book, along with all her fury, down on his head with a meaty _THUNK._

He hit the floor like a deadweight. Rita sucked in another breathe, horrified to find that _Fireball _was one of the only ones updated and functioning. What had she been doing these past three years..?

Working on renewable, civil mana uses. Useful applications for cities and townships. Replacement generators, mana-driven machinery and augments to help normal people lead normal lives.

It meant precisely nothing when someone grabbed both of her arms and twisted them back. It was almost a waste when another monk dragged a floral scented strip of cloth past her lips and between her teeth.

They gagged her so quickly that Rita realised that was their intent all along. They'd come prepared to fight a mage. The minute the man fell back and she was left trying to swallow past the manky rope of material, they relaxed in unison. One even gave a shaky chuckle. The sight of it made Rita simmer down.

If those idiots thought spells were all she could defend herself with, then let them relax. Let them think they'd won.

They all shot each other pleased looks and Rita bided her time, waiting to figure out just what the hell was going on.

"That... that wasn't so bad," one said, still clutching his ribs. There was a bubbling moan from the monk behind him; he had a bunched handkerchief at his mouth and it was already soaking through. He'd probably bitten through his tongue.

"We're not too late, are we? I don't think we have much time to take her top-side. Did Keeper Elis or Jerard tell you?"

"Not me. They won't wait, though. We need to go up _now._"

"I told you to hurry!"

"It's not _my _fault!"

"Yeah, she spent so long in the main hall, it was impossible to move in-"

It was the most pathetic excuse for a kidnapping Rita had ever seen. They broke down into an argument about who's fault their incompetence was, and they argued about it even as she was bustled from the apartments and out into the empty residential dome.  
The group of monks clattered down the steps and milled about in the courtyard, still whining, still useless.

Rita took a deep breath in through her nose and glanced around for a new escape route. The idiot behind her had relaxed enough that his grip was waning. He was good and close too – she could probably break his foot if she stomped down on his instep hard enough.

Rita worked her lips around her gag and wondered if she could muffle through a spell despite it. She was forcing a hum through the cloth when a brief flash of movement caught her eye.

The monks were still distracting themselves. Even if they had have kept their traps shut, they probably wouldn't have heard Raven slip from the doorway and over the railing to cover. Rita gaped at him, shocked at how quickly and silently he moved and stunned that he was even there at all.

Her surprise flipped like a coin to reveal rage instead when, just as he landed and ducked low by the veranda, he caught her eye and gave her an encouraging thumbs up.  
There was only the barest of spaces between the shell-like buildings, and he edged further into it, pressing a finger to his lips and flapping a hand at her in the universal sign of 'go with it'.

_That son of a bitch was using her as _BAIT.

"Mmmfhnt MMNGH," Rita attempted, but as much as she wanted to, she couldn't cast _Violent Pain _through her gag.

"Pardon?" one monk asked, blinking at her curiously.

"She's trying to cast!" another shrieked.

Rita swore when they all lunged at her again. They were needlessly grabby, but in the space it took for her to shoulder them away, Raven had disappeared as completely as a puff of smoke in the wind. Even when they grappled her into yet another strangle hold and began to move forward, she couldn't catch sight of him in the quiet residentials.

She was still scouring the scenery for the dead-man when they lead her insistently away from the city.

These men were obviously related to Estelle's assassins... but how? They were too incompetent to be the masterminds behind Dahngrest and Heliord. All Rita could tell from the inane babblings was that they were desperately trying to please three Record Keepers who had taught them the dumb krityan ceremonies. It was obvious that they felt as much terror as they did gratitude for it.

Rita was piecing together the threadbare net of information when they finally stampeded up the final set of stairs and splashed across the rocky beach of the island's crater ring.

It was noon. It was hard to keep track of time under the ocean, but the day had barely started above the surface. The air felt thick and crusted with salt from the ocean, and the still water pooling at the city's exit smelled fishy and rank under the sun.

The monks laughed in relief at seeing fresh air. They had met whatever schedule that had been stressing them out. So it was with a lot more composure that they lead Rita up a small, cobbled path across the rocks.

There was a paved plateau carved into rim of the crater. Great, useless chunks of Zaudé's blastia had fallen across most of it and the northern band of the remaining structure curved up behind them, broken unevenly a mile or so above sea-level. Rita followed the familiar curve of it with her eyes.

She stumbled, breathless, then slumped to her knees when her eyes found red.

The monks cried out in surprise at her collapse; the man behind her released her arms, but the freedom didn't matter. She barely heard their confusion.

Brave Vesperia was _enormous_.

Rita's eyes darted from it, to the sun, and then back again, desperately calculating scale and distance.

With numb fingers, she reached into her breast pocket and pulled out the little hoplon core. It was warm when she lifted it to the sky, letting it eclipse Vesperia like a blood-clot.

It wasn't big enough to cover the burning hole swallowing up too much sky. Way too much sky.

Hoplon cores used a formula to expel energy very quickly across distance. Human's just assumed that function was for violence. But Rita stared at the cracked little gem between her fingers and she suddenly realised that what she was staring at wasn't a weapon at all... it was a transmitter. A homing device.

Rita lowered the core. Brave Vesperia wasn't moving across the sky at all. It had stopped its orbit and, when the planet had continued to spin without it, it had merely looked like it had been moving. And as she licked her lips and calculated just how large it had become... she realised that the only direction that Brave Vesperia was headed was _down._

Brave Vesperia was coming home, and by the look of those flames, it was doing it way too fast.

.  
_oOo_  
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* * *

**A/N: Oh Raven. There's a difference between a gentleman and a gentle man... and we all know you're not the former.  
There is alot going on in this chapter. Sorry about that. I made a promise to myself that interesting things would happen in this fic every installment, and now I wonder if it isn't just overwhelming to do it that way.**

**Thank you everyone for still reading and still reviewing! Don't be afraid to tell me what I'm doing wrong!**


	17. An Eye for an Eye

**17: An Eye for an Eye**

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_oOo_  
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Red. The colour was so visceral it hurt his eyes. Yuri didn't know if the shimmer was from his waning focus or from the flames.

Vesperia was an effigy of everything they thought they had known.

Once upon a time, it had just been a star. Back in Zaphias, it had only been visible in the Noble Quarter, and for the poor to see it meant a daring and illegal climb across the dividing walls. It had been a distant and unobtainable jewel, something else magnificent that should have belonged to all and didn't. Flynn had pointed his wooden sword at it on the inn's crumbling shingles and promised to make the world a better place.

Much later, Estelle had stood on the docks of Nordopolica and woven out a tale about a sister and a brother to him. At the time Yuri had thought it was so typically _Estelle _to have a fairy-tale on call for anything she clapped her eyes on... But she was very convincing underneath all that starlight, and Yuri could never quite shake the symbolism.

Alexei had taken the strings of Estelle's tale and split them brutally down the middle, peeling away the charm and leaving the weeping, ugly core for all to see. The truth was so shocking that even the Commandant had shed tears. The star was a blastia. The blastia was the final lock on the world's largest gaol-cell.

And now?

"Bigger again," Jerard muttered, squinting up into the sky.

Brave Vesperia was the first thing Yuri had seen when they'd hit the surface. It was all he had looked at when Jerard and his band of idiots had dragged him up the rocks and to the crest of the crater. The wind sheared across them in a constant chill. It prickled at the slick sweat that banded over Yuri's upper lip, and it made him aware of just how numb he'd become.  
Except for his shoulder. He could still feel that. It still hurt like hell.

Yuri moved it deliberately to try and jolt himself awake. The pain jutted like a nail up his neck, but for all the muscles knotting across his jaw, it didn't clear his head. Still muggy. Still _useless._

"Sorry I'm late," Jerard called cheerfully.

"_Very _late," a voice sneered.

There was a group waiting for them. They faded into the grey like so many dilapidated statues in a row and Yuri hadn't noticed them. One krityan man stood out for all the wrong reasons. It was Waylin, the assassin from the woods that had come so close to making good on his death-threats against Estelle. The sight of his sullen face was better for a foggy head than any amount of brisk sea breeze.

Jerard gave a helpless and good-natured shrug. With unnecessary force, he gave Yuri a shove forward just as Waylin thrust forward a captive of his own.  
Yuri hadn't noticed the thin figure in the sparkling green. He noticed him now because they were about to collide. He twisted too late to save his throbbing shoulder and the young man struck him in the stomach head first.

The flash of agony was impossible to hide. The sound of it tore itself from his throat.

"Yuri!"

Karol nearly toppled them both, tripping on his own trailing trousers and rolling with Yuri's clumsy dodge. They righted in the same instant and stumbled back a foot, staring at one another with a mutual expression of shock.

"Y-Yuri?" Karol repeated, disbelieving. The swordsman took the rictus of his pain and twisted it into a grin.

"Aw, they got you too, Captain?" he managed, pulling back a step to nurse his shrieking shoulder. "Since when did we suck so much?"

It was a dumb, light-hearted thing to say. Yuri felt compelled to say it. He'd never liked to show weakness at the best of times, but suddenly it was important that Karol didn't see him like this. The only thing worse than the panic on his guild leader's face was the spark of hope that had flared through it.

Karol thought that Yuri was about to save them both.

The misplaced faith hurt more than the broken collar-bone. It hurt even more when the hope slowly fizzled in Karol's wide eyes.

The guild leader lifted his hands as if to catch his older friend but he stopped short, hovering. Yuri clutched his own useless arm protectively to his side and tried once more to hide just how bad a position they were in. He gave a morbid chuckle.

"Guess... This time... We're not doing so good," he muttered wryly.

Karol very carefully lowered his hands and it was like watching something vital wither when they curled into fists at his sides. His expression cleared. His brows drew down over eyes so open and honest that it knocked the breath out of Yuri's lungs.

"Oh man, you're _really _hurt," Karol said quietly. He grimaced briefly before biting down on his lower lip. "I... I don't know where the others are, so I guess it's just you and me, huh? B-But you really shouldn't be moving at all because... I mean, you look really bad. Like, really bad. S-So you should leave this t-t-to me. Promise me you won't do anything crazy! I-I can handle this."

... Was this for real?

"N-No big deal, I got this," Karol stuttered, a maelstrom of terror and despair. And at the eye of that storm was the immovable, hardened core of pure determination.

Yuri blinked the sweat out of his eyes, unaccustomed to weakness. Unaccustomed to letting someone else share a little of the slack. Unaccustomed to that person being _Karol._ And since when did the kid get so tall..?

He had turned to lock eyes on the ringleaders of the group. Three figures stood by the crater's edge and Jerard was one of them; he lifted a hand to shield his eyes as he peered into the distance.

"Well I'll be," he suddenly said. "Looks like our Myorzian friends have held up their end of the bargain."

Sure enough, distant figures on the other side of the rocky crater waved.

"I guess the last of the guild Brave Vesperia have been rounded up," Jerard continued thoughtfully. "We _are_ still missing sister Judith and the man from Altosk though... Do we wait?"

"No. This is enough."

The third figure was a woman. Her voice carried. She was staring down at the shadow of Zaudé in the ocean and she didn't even spare her two companions a glance.  
Both the pretentious Jerard and the feral little Waylin bowed their heads respectfully. Yuri hadn't been expecting that. Curious, he peered hazily at the slight figure of a woman not so far away.

She was human, which was strange, and about as intimidating as a stick-insect which was stranger still. There was no reason why she commanded the fear that cowed every monk on the plateau, but she let the silence stretch out like a tortured victim on the rack. No one dared break it.

She very slowly turned her head to stare over her shoulder.

Her eyes were like shards of ice. They bored holes into Yuri, and her next words slipped and slid past every other person on the plateau to reach him.

"I think we have all the pieces in place to make a point," she said coldly. "I believe it is time to educate the rabble. A lesson needs to be learned here."

It was exactly the kind of _holier-than-thou _pretentious drivel that Yuri had come to hate. It was Cumore and the Council and Ragou all over again, and that old live-wire of moral injustice surged up his chest and bubbled on the back of his tongue. He was partway to opening his mouth when Karol suddenly drove an elbow into his good side.

A pointed look, a slow gesture of calm and Yuri swallowed every sarcastic, caustic witticism that had battered against the backs of his clenched teeth. Their silent exchange had gone unnoticed. The thin woman with the dark hair turned back to the wind-swept view.

"And isn't it perfect," she said loudly, her voice suddenly public domain again. "I don't know how, but Ragnus is hanging just overhead. I like to think he will see _everything_."

"Who _are _you?"

Karol had said it in a voice that was more confused than curious.

It was the question that had been on all of their lips since the first bomb in Dahngrest. It spun around the whole misadventure in a great unending loop, unchanging and unanswered. And right now, with Vesperia burning itself into the curve of Yuri's retinas, they were finally at the heart of the mystery.

The heart of the mystery tilted her angular face back to the winds.

"My name is Elis," she eventually said in a flat tone. "And I am all that remains of the Geraios civilisation. I am all that remains of Temza."

She mulled over this for a moment before turning to appraise Karol thoughtfully.

"You are _very _young," she said with open disdain. "Were you even alive when the cloud city still stood? You're just a child. What could you possibly have experienced in your handful of sheltered, privileged years?"

She took a few idle steps in their direction and shook her head like a disappointed headmaster.

"I was watching the way of the Geraios wither and die before you were even born," she said softly, "and was continuing their work before you'd taken your first steps. Alone I helped the ancient entelexeia when no one else would. I taught the kritya about their forgotten history even when they tried to forget. Most of them had begun to care more about the humans. They began to care more about the Empire."

Karol said nothing, and Elis closed her eyes to breath in deeply, the tiniest of smiles playing at her thin and pinched lips.

"... Oh, but of course you couldn't understand. You didn't know Temza before the Empire began to corrupt it. You didn't see the skies filled with entelexeia, or the beautiful ceremonies I conducted to bond our people with the ancients." Her eyes opened in a flash of black. "And now it is lost, all lost."

The Myorzian monks began to babble at once, full of reassurance and dedication and promises of a future with the Geraios in it. They had been clinging off her every word, and the only thing more obvious than the adoration on their faces was the frosty hatred on hers.

She hated them. Yuri could see it in every pinched line in her face, and he could feel it rolling off her in acidic waves. She hated the Myorzians and their gullible faith as much as she hated him and Karol.

The only difference was that Yuri knew she wanted him dead, and the sheltered and naive people of Myorzo simply didn't have a clue.

The collective sound of their simpering praise began to grate at Yuri until his grip on his unresponsive arm began to quake and the subtle twist began to grind a slow and searing note of discord across his whole chest.

"I can't believe you guys are buying this con."

He hadn't intended on saying it out loud. He had anyway, and the accusation fell flat in the still air. Yuri heard Karol shift nervously.

"Con?" Elis queried dangerously.

"Con, scam, fraud... whatever you want to call it, you guys can't _seriously _be buying this ancient civilisation crap she's shovelling," Yuri said expressively. He gave the gaping monks an unimpressed look and then managed a shrug. It hurt like hell, but it was worth it for the sharp intake of breath from across the way.  
Elis' lips pinched tighter and tighter until her mouth was a small, white line of icy rage. Yuri grinned at her and, never letting his eyes leave hers, continued ruthlessly,

"She's playing you guys for saps, you know. A few words about your _noble heritage _and you're running around doing _her _dirty work? For some cosmic justice? Since when did the kritya become murdering thugs on the word of some two-bit quack?"

"Uh, Yuri?" Karol managed through his teeth.

"What? Come on, Captain, it doesn't take a genius to see she's a _human. _The age of Temza my ass. This is all some elaborate ruse to kill Estelle, and I'm not buying it."

Suddenly the clearing was too quiet and Karol began to ease them both back in tiny steps of retreat.

"You think I'm _human_."

Her voice cut through the wind and waves like a scalpel, soft and seamless even as it sunk ever deeper.

She laughed suddenly. The sound of it struck them like a spattering of rocks, unexpected and biting. She chuckled into the palm of her hand for one moment... then swept her dark, shoulder-length hair away from her face.

It revealed a thin face with shockingly gaunt cheeks. The hollows made the edge of her jaw sharper, and below that, there were white twig-like ruffles at the base of her neck. If not for the contrast of her black hair, Yuri would never have known they had once been antennae at all. They had been cut shorter and messier than even Waylin's brutal amputation. And more grotesque still were what remained of her once elegant, long ears. Like flesh coloured lumps, the scar tissue twisted close to her skull, warped and pitiful.

She was krityan. She had also cut away all evidence of it.

"Amongst the Geraios there is a custom. When one serves a duty to an entelexeia, _as they must_, the sacred duty is enforced through the nageeg. We serve our ancient masters until the day we die, but _if _we should be so unfortunate to lose the ancient first..." She let her hair fall, but she continued to look broken long after the scarring had been covered up. "We remove the nageeg. We sever our link to the entelexeia to honor our lost sibling. This scarring is _not _a con. I did my duty, and I paid for it."

The monks all around them were nodding enthusiastically as if the woman's diatribe had been a sermon of pure insight.  
Yuri felt his stomach drop.

He could have handled a good old fashioned vendetta. Everyone at some stage had felt the need for payback, and he knew that feeling better than anyone. And he definitely would have been happier had it all been a scam, because there had been more lying, cheating bastards in Yuri's life than he'd care to admit. Finding ways of dealing with them were his _specialty_.

But this wasn't just a vendetta. It wasn't even a scam.

Elis of the Geraios was insane. She wore her madness with familiarity, as if she'd been crazy so long it had solidified into a core of twisted ice within her. She wore it with a weird grace... not like Waylin who couldn't speak without twitching.

There had only been one other person that Yuri knew who had been this insane, and Zagi had been laughing and delirious with it even as he plummeted to his own death.

Even in death.

And Yuri realised that this woman would have to die.

It was a cold and shocking realisation. It was the same swift blow to his chest it had always been, that black and sucking knowledge settled like an anchor across his shoulders. The only real solution was to cut the problem out of existence. The only person who could do it was _him._

Like always, Yuri ran through his options. Like always, Yuri thought of Flynn.

But Elis was glaring out at the world through twisted goggles of hate, and she probably wouldn't stop whatever mission she was on no matter what gaol Flynn threw her into.

Because while Zagi had perfected and honed the art of cutting people up into pieces, Elis had perfected the art of puppeteering. She had the people of Myorzo wrapped around her little finger. She had manoeuvred his friends under the heel of her boot. She had Estelle in the palm of her hand, and suddenly the dark responsibility was a lot easier to bear.

Yuri lowered his face to watch her darkly.

"I have come back to rebuild the Geraios," the woman with the hacked up features declared. "I have come back to deliver justice and to right that which is wrong. The Child of the Full Moon is but one step in this process. Now, time for our first lesson." She purred it, suddenly smug. "True justice is no more than an eye for an eye. Let us think about Ragnus' position."

"Ragnus?" Karol squeaked.

There was a brittle pause where all eyes turned to the infected scab of a blastia in the sky.

"Our entelexeia brother had a mission to keep Brave Vesperia aloft and running. He was to come home once that mission was complete. But no. She left him there. A _human _betrayed one of the mighty entelexeia. Left him there without help. Without a chance to be saved. Trapped as despair slowly leaked in. Suffocating as hope started to drain away."

She turned to look up at the star.

"An eye for an eye."

Jerard sighed suddenly. He gave a heartfelt shrug that dislodged all misgivings and with the casual disinterest of a man checking the time, he lifted a small device from his pocket and very calmly pulled at its trigger.

The ground heaved with an ear-popping _thwoom._

Thousands of seagulls took to the air in a giant squawking cloud. They spiralled high, and it was when they had begun to circle the crater that the first of the bubbles broke the calm inlet. There were few at first, then more, and more again until the basin of sea-water was churning and writhing and spitting like a pot brought to boil.

All air. Too much air.

They were flooding Zaudé.

"There are _people _down there!" Karol burst out. Over the rush of all that precious oxygen bursting and frothing to the surface, Elis smiled coyly and chided,

"Eye for an eye! Myorzo forgot about the Geraios. So the Geraios forgets about them."

The monks didn't seem to agree. For the first time since the beginning, they looked uncomfortable with the woman's words and they shifted about like nervous sheep with a wolf in their midst. The hesitation was all Yuri needed.

He kicked out and tripped the closest monk. Before he could do more, Karol burst forward and collected the man in the midsection with a shoulder, hammering him into his fellows like a bowling ball into skittles.

"I said don't do anything crazy!" Karol managed, horrified. He followed up with, "I've got this," as if to remind himself, then was already jumping and leaping over the groaning monks and heading for the city's entrance. Waylin intercepted him instantly.

They met in a flash of metal and glittering green beads, twisting for half a second before Waylin thrust a metal claw directly at Karol's face. The younger man tore himself to the side in time, but when they fell apart it was in a bad position; Waylin lurked between Karol and the yawning entrance to Zaudé's halls.

There was no telling how fast the air was draining from the submerged city, but there were hundreds of kritya down there. Men, women, children... _Estelle _was down there.

Yuri forced his legs to move forward. Over by the entrance, Waylin was on the move again. The krityan cut in with a pair of punches aimed at the gut; Karol yelped and awkwardly leapt back from the first, the spun on his heel and slid past the next like a dancer. The contrast was pure Karol. It was pure agony to watch. Bumbling disaster one moment, then genius the next...  
The assassin cut in again wide and Karol was forced to duck; the swing sailed cleanly overhead and the young guild master stumbled further away from the city's entrance, weaponless and out of breath already.

His chest was heaving. Ribs corrugated his palid skin and they strained with every laboured breath. With a sudden tug, Karol pulled off of his glittering vest with shaking hands. It tinkled loudly as he finally tugged it free and held it before him in both white-knuckled fists. If was barely two hand-spans of gaudy material and it was all he had to defend himself with. Yuri hissed and forced his numb legs to move him forward faster.

For all his bravado, Karol was in no better shape than Yuri was. He had to help. He had to-

Waylin surged forward in a viscious stab aimed to punch through Karol's chest. Karol shot his own hands forward. The plated claw punctured the gaudy, jangling vest like a knife into hot butter, barely making a noise as it sank all the way up to the knuckles... where it came to a sudden halt. The stitching held against the leather inlay of the gloves, and Karol slid back a step under the force of the blow.

But he held on and twisted. The material knotted around Waylin's fist in a deft swirl. Karol shot a foot forward, hooked an ankle around his opponent's, then turned, lifted... and he swung Waylin over his shoulder and flipped him to the ground with a bone jarring _thud._

Without waiting for the coughing man to get up, Karol stumbled over him and made another break for the entrance.

Yuri let out a breath that was all shock and relief.

It lodged and died in his throat when the sky turned black. It ate the clouds, smothered the gulls and landed over the shrine entrance with an ear-splitting screech.

The entelexeia was the size of a house. It hunkered down over the rocky structure like a bird over its nest, shoulders shifting as it turned one eye on them. It was built broad and flat, like a lizard, and its feathery wings cupped over the entire plateau in big shimmering arches. It trilled softly to itself, almost talking, then abruptly lowered a disc-like head down to Karol's height. It opened its gaping maw and screamed.

The roar lasted only half a second of agony before it transcended hearing and all that was left was the ringing in Yuri's eardrums and the shaking of the earth. It was like a physical force; Yuri slithered across the cobble by the headwind and Karol was blown backwards as if struck with a battering ram.

He came to a tumbling halt by Yuri's feet, and the swordsman grabbed his friend by the arm to help him up.

There were no words as they fell back together. The entelexeia trilled gently once more and lurched forward another ungainly step to completely cover the Shrine's entrance.

"Well done, Izuna," said Jerard, barely audible past the ringing in their ears. "Nice timing."  
The creature warbled a strange note of pleasure, and had he not know better, Yuri would have thought it was a monster for all it acted like a dog.

"Sorry gentlemen, but we can't have you leaving class early," Jerard said next. He gave another of his helpless shrugs and added, "I'm no fighter myself, but I'm sure my brother Izuna can keep you occupied."

"Just kill them," Waylin wheezed from his sprawl on the ground.  
Izuna placed one great claw on the edge of the plateau and rock splintered under its grip.

The ocean was still boiling. The air was still getting out. Yuri couldn't help but count his breaths as he knew Estelle would be.

How much water would have filled the halls by now? Did any of the kritya below have plans for if this happened? Did any of them even know where Estelle was? Would any of them care?

Yuri sucked in a cold breath and glanced around. Izuna was getting harder and harder to ignore, but behind all those monks and Waylin's scowling face and Jerard's smug stance... Elis stood like a frigid statue, unimpressed and patient. Waiting her justice out.

It was a long distance with a lot of obstacles between him and her... but if he succeeded, this would all be over. If he failed, it would be a really, _really _good distraction that Karol could use.

"Karol, listen to me," Yuri said quickly and softly. "Estelle's still down in the city. Some dining hall near the main chamber. She can't move, and she'll need you to get her out of here. Anywhere. Hide if you have to. I can buy us some time, but don't count on it being much."

"Yuri?"

"Judy and the Old Man are still out there, look for them once you're out. They'll know what to do."

"Yuri, what are y-"

"I'm _trusting _you with this, Captain," Yuri interrupted, desperate to be understood. He met Karol's eyes and tried to get him to see just how serious he was when he added, "I'm trusting you to look after her."

And Karol understood. His eyes widened and the horror pinched at his face until the colour had drained from it.

"I-I _can't_," he let out piteously.

"Aww, not even for _me_?" Yuri replied as he fumbled his sword hilt numbly into his good hand. Casual and confident and arrogant and everything that Karol probably needed to hear in that one, bleak moment. The silence stretched on long, like a denial.  
But the guild leader gulped thickly, clenched his eyes shut and nodded, once.

"I-I-I'll protect her with my life," Karol whispered, shoulders shaking.

"I know you will," Yuri replied softly.

It felt like a goodbye.

The sword grip was like a memory in his hand, neither real nor all that trustworthy. Without support, his limp arm jarred with every boneless sway. He ground the ball of his foot into the cold stone as if to reassure himself it was still there, then Yuri looked up.  
He met Elis' eyes and she stared at him curiously.

Justice was not an Eye for an Eye. Yuri had never believed it. The world was too full of victims for it to work. There were too many scores to settle, and where would it stop? An Eye for an Eye would simply leave the whole world blind.

Justice wasn't about revenge. It was about making sure the crime never happened again. It was about protecting people. And if that meant taking a blade to a madwoman, then so be it.

And if it meant accepting responsibility and whatever cost that duty brought, then...

Yuri stepped forward.

The sound was soft at first, as a part of the ocean as the waves breaking and the seagulls cawing. By the second tottering footstep, it was louder. Familiar. By the third, the sound was a rumble deep in his chest and the thrum gave him pause.

Yuri looked up in the same instant Karol did.

The shadow was an indistinct blot on the blue of the sky. It slid across the clouds and, with a flash of silver like a fish changing currents, it curved around and sped closer.

Ba'ul's size made it impossible to gauge just how fast he was going. Faster than Yuri had ever seen him, because one moment their old friend was a glinting shape out over the ocean, the next he was tearing up the waves with his slip-stream just over the crater.

Izuna lifted its head and trilled once, curiously. The seagulls scattered.

Baul shot by low and fast and brought a gale with him. So fast that Yuri almost didn't see the _Fiertia _slamming into Izuna's raised head with a splintering _crunch _that sent the entelexeia head over heels. Hundreds of tons of lizard wheeled away from the Shrine Entrance like a bird in a tornado. Over the lip, down the side of the rocky incline, over the jagged coral, then into the white wash in a flurry of feathers and serpentine coils.

Jerard cried out as if he had been struck. He tottered to the side clutching his head just as Waylin tried to scramble to his feet.

The assassin was slammed back down when a figure in blue dropped from the sky and landed squarely on his back.

Heels clicked. Sunlight flashed an intricate pattern down an elegant spear.

Judith straightened and she swept a hand over her antennae, as luxuriously as if the feathery length was a silky lock of hair. She glanced around the clearing once, swiftly taking it all in, then brought a gloved finger to her gently quirked lips.

She tilted her lovely face coquettishly at Yuri.

"Oh, that's just mean," said she. "You started the fun without me."

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_oOo_  
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* * *

**A/N: I've had this and the following scenes planned out from the very beginning. It was a LOT less melodramatic in note form, let me tell you. Thank you all so much for the patience and the support, and thank you for putting up with all the epic and the drama.**

**As for the chapter... I proof-read this while quite sick and all fluffy from medication. Whether this flows well or makes sense is mildly beyond me at this point. Not knowing makes it half the fun? **


	18. For Those We Love

**18: For Those We Love**

.  
_oOo_  
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"Did you miss me?"

Judith was teasing them of course. From their mutual expression of shock, she'd been the furthest thing from their minds.

Karol was as washed-out as a chalk sketch in the rain. He was also completely shirtless and swimming in the largest pair of pants she had ever seen. Something to nettle him about later, perhaps. Yuri, on the other hand, was staring at her as if he couldn't quite make sense of what he was seeing. He had the eyes of a man that had just stared death squarely in the face and hadn't been expecting the view to change.

Judith took another glance around the scene and came to a few bleak conclusions.

"What a scary face," she said aloud. To lighten the mood, she added with an impish pout, "Am I in trouble?"

He didn't smile. Karol was even less impressed.

"Where have you been? We've been so worried! One minute you're there and the next you're gone and all this stuff happened and you were nowhere to be seen!" he exclaimed.

"You picked one hell of a time for a joy-ride," Yuri agreed in a low voice.

Ooh, so she was in trouble after all.

Judith wondered if she should explain. She was contemplating where to start when the mangled little man under her feet shifted wilfully. She slid the tip of her spear between the cobbles a hair's breadth from his nose as a reminder, and suddenly he wasn't quite so eager to get up. Not so far away, Izuna was whining like a slapped puppy and crawling his way from the reef and to the rocky ledge. The kritya that had bonded to him was still moaning himself. The ocean bubbled, the monks cowered... and Elis stood there staring at them all like she was an overworked surgeon examining a gangrenous limb.

It was quite the predicament. Judith had willingly turned her back on it.

It wasn't the first time she'd leapt into action and left her friends behind. It wasn't even the first time she'd sabotaged them when she'd done it. Sometimes you just had to act, and Judith was exceptionally good at knowing when to do so.

There hadn't been time for words. The best warning she had been able to give was the Lost Records, and Repede had been the only one close enough to give them to. He had been in the middle of something important, no doubt, but Judith's request had been crucial.

That little cylinder had been the distinction between abandoning her friends and trusting them in her absence.

Perhaps they didn't see it that way.

"I take it you're fashionably late for a reason," Yuri said dryly. Judith wondered if she should explain.

"Oh you know me," was what she said instead. "Just tying up some loose ends. Ba'ul and I had quite the journey to make and I'm really very worn out. I _did _bump into your friend the Commandant on the way back, though. He really was very surprised to hear about our troubles here. He _insisted _on coming to see for himself."

"Flynn," Yuri breathed.

You could see the ships, if you tore your eyes away from the churning crater. Three of the advance schooners were almost at the dock already, and the sight of the Imperial crest emblazoned on so many white sails made the monks start whispering fearfully. Judith only spared the gullible fools half a moment; she watched Yuri instead, and smiled when that shadow of death began to finally recede.

Understanding flooded his face instead, and maybe she wouldn't have to explain after all.

"Did I do wrong?" Judith wondered aloud, cheekily.

He grinned, and all was forgiven.

"Karol?" he said over his shoulder.

"On it!" Karol gasped. He turned on his heel and ran from the plateau, stumbling wide of the rocky incline that Izuna was hauling himself up and barely casting the enormous entelexeia a glance. He took the stone steps three at a time and within moments he had disappeared from view.

Judith turned back to the danger at hand. She turned back to Elis, and the smile slipped from her lips. The woman glared back with enough ice in her eyes to freeze over Mantaic. It was like staring through a glacier into the past, and Judith had the very strange sensation of being nine-years-old all over again.

She laughed softly, fascinated with the feeling.

"Right. I guess you guys haven't been introduced," Yuri said with a wry grin. "Judy,this is-"

"Oh, we've already met," Judith interrupted blithely.

The woman scowled violently and turned her sunken features aside.

"Jerard, kill them," Elis ordered. The man on her left was still clutching his head as if he was afraid it might roll off. Even had he been capable, when Izuna finally heaved himself over the lip of the crater, the entelexeia blasted out one furious note of wrath and then leapt into the air. With a flurry of feathers, he shot off across the ocean in pursuit of Ba'ul.

"Maybe not," Jerard managed.

"Waylin! Now!" was Elis' next desperate order.

"Is that all you've got to say? I'm hurt," Judith chided. "And here I thought you'd be pleased to see me."

"Waylin!" Elis barked hysterically.

"That's enough now," Judith said next, no longer amused. She stared at the husk of a woman and tried to feel pity. The only emotion that she conjured up was disgust, and it flavoured her tone when she added, "You've hurt enough people already for some very stupid reasons. Enough now."

"_Stupid?_" Elis hissed, so venomously that she peppered the air with spittle. "Just what I'd expect to hear from the daughter of a traitor!"

Judith sighed.

Her father's legacy had been a lifetime ago. It was hard to remember exactly what Temza had been like. She didn't remember much, and certainly not the twisted woman before her.

It had been Ba'ul that finally recalled.

Elis had bonded kritya to entelexeia, and when she had offered this to Ba'ul, he had refused to participate in her strange ceremonies. He remembered her because she had labelled him a monster, and the vague people of Temza had believed her. Judith recalled none of that. All she remembered was climbing out over the canyons to visit her dearest friend, and the trouble she had gotten into for doing so.

Most of her childhood memories were filled with her father. She remembered how strongly he felt about a new, better way of life for people and she remembered the betrayal on his face when the Empire had stormed the mountains and wiped out everyone they encountered.

It had been a long, long time ago. Judith had left that scared little nine-year-old on the steps of her father's house with the rubble. Ba'ul had stolen her away from the destruction and she had never looked back.

Until now.

"We all lost something on Temza," she said softly, thinking of that long and carefully kept list in the Lost Records. "You need to stop now. No amount of killing will bring the Geraios back. No amount of revenge will bring back the entelexeia. It won't bring _him _back. It's time to stop-"

"_Enough!"_

Elis had gone white as a sheet, cheeks blotchy and muscles corded with rage. Her eyes held only terror though, and here was a woman who could_ not _stare into the face of death. She had been running from it for thirteen long years.

"I won't hear it!" she shrieked, "You're just a traitor! Traitor like your father! And you'll _die _like one! _Waylin_!"

He surged up so suddenly that Judith nearly didn't move in time. She kicked off in a backflip, and the little man's iron knuckles had been so close, they scoured a line down the side of her plated heel. Mid-air, she swung her spear around and swatted the vicious little stab aside.

She landed with a _click_. Waylin spat crudely in her direction, then raised both spiked fists. Judith smiled flirtatiously at him in reply.

As far as negotiations went, her dramatic entrance had been a terrible failure. But Judith didn't mind. She gave the twitching little man a playful little wink, then leapt.

She had always been good at acting. She'd always been exceptionally good at knowing when to do so.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Yuri wasn't coming back.

Estelle drew in another breath. She held it in her barely functioning lungs for as long as she could, then let the weight of her own chest push it out of her body.

Yuri wasn't coming back to help her.

The view out of the window was obscured now, a violent thrashing of foam as the air gushed out of the city. She couldn't turn her head to see anything else. Her body didn't feel like it was hers at all, and the only evidence that it existed was the pressure it had over her heart and lungs. She was nothing more than a terrified heartbeat. Nothing more than tiny, desperate breaths.

Yuri wasn't coming back to save her.

Estelle could even hear the rush of the ocean from the breach somewhere outside of the function room. The roar of air escaping was everywhere, and the insidious tune of water trickling into her tomb could be heard under that. The water just kept coming, flooding across the floor and rising. It slowly but surely began to creep up the sides of her couch.

Not long after that, the screaming had started.

The people of Myorzo were trapped. The sound of their horror through the walls made her heart spike, skittering tingles down her numb limbs and reminding her that the heavy lump on the couch was _her_.

She had done this. These people were going to die because of _her_. This was a disaster beyond all of her disasters. No amount of poise and gallantry from Yuri could make this right. For the first time since she had known him, Estelle knew that he simply wasn't capable of it. The people of Myorzo were on their own.

Who was going to help them?

The thought rose from her despair like the first light of dawn.

_I am._

Estelle whistled in a thin breath. The responsibility was big enough to drown her as effectively as the rising sea-water, but she forced herself to blink. Even if it was slow, even if her eyelashes quivered and her eyes welled up with tears, she blinked. She did it twice more to reassure herself, then very slowly swivelled her swimming eyes to the side.

Her arm had never looked so alien or distant.

She had to move it.

It was like staring at a corpse and willing it to life. Estelle sent demands and orders and promises and wishes at her arm, but it laid there like a dead piece of meat.  
She had never felt so trapped. Every plea, every _ounce _of her willpower battered and drove itself into her arm like so much wind down a tunnel. She wondered how it was that people moved.

She shoved and shoved until she couldn't see for the tears.

_Move!_

Her arm gave an ugly twitch. Estelle sobbed though numb lips in relief. The jolt had sent an echo across her shoulder that was just enough to remind her where her skin ended and where the cold air began. She remembered how her elbow felt just long enough to...  
It was a weak jerk. A sorry little tug at the hinge, but it was enough. Gravity did what her frozen nerves could not; her arm rolled to the edge of the couch, slithered over the side and struck the rising water.

The splash echoed.

Everything went black.

_I will save them._

Estelle may not have been able to remember how to move, but she could remember _this_. The emptiness was a roadmap she knew intimately and she searched it for that one familiar blue glimmer in the void.  
She reached out and _gripped._

**... Good gracious child, what on Terca Lumereis..?**

"Undine!"

The spirit glowed in the blackness like a blue lantern, lids dusky and closed, brow furrowed neatly in matronly worry. It was impossible to tell if Estelle had travelled far to reach the spirit, or if she had simply dug deep within herself.

"Undine, you must help them! Please!"

Her begging echoed. Undine turned her head gently and Estelle could tell from her expression that she peered through the black and into the filling halls of Zaudé. The spirit examined the churning ocean outside and then the tears that streaked so many terrified krityan faces. She looked down, and saw Estelle's sluggish blood circulating in a frozen body, one hand catching the ripples of the rising water.

**Good Gracious, **she said again. With a stern voice, she added, **You ask something beyond my powers. I could no more stop the ocean than you could stop your heartbeat.**

She must have felt Estelle's despair, because a tight, conceited smile ghosted her full lips.

**Come now, limited I may be, but useless I am not. Let's see what must be done.**

The darkness winked out as if someone had turned the world back on. Estelle blinked. She was on the couch once more, eyes wide and fuzzy. But Undine was with her now, and the spirit slid into Estelle's veins like a needle of quicksilver. It was the most invasive thing to ever happen to her and the shock of it made her heart pound out a sudden and echoing beat.

It pulsed her blood. Undine rode the rush, purging the numbness as she went.  
She took her time, lifting poison from her insides like a gardener patiently plucking weeds from a flower bed. Estelle felt her progress in every tingling, revitalised nerve.

By the time she had finished, the freezing sea-water had flooded over the cushions and lifted the silk of Estelle's dress up around her like enormous silver lily-pads. She sluggishly pushed the bulging material aside as she rolled from the couch.

Estelle still didn't feel much. The first sensation to reach her was the cold, and it prickled goose-bumps over every inch of her skin. Shivering, she waded past the gently floating tables and chairs, bumping them aside until her wobbling knees gave out.  
She plunged into the frigid waters and the icy shock burst every collected breath from her lungs. She felt Undine surge under her and swell to help her back up. She rose gasping on the subtle wave of water and splashed to the door, drenched through as she opened it.

**It is just this dome that has flooded. The original facility has an automated lock down for this sort of situation. The Myorzians did not know, and the doors will not open.**

Estelle's teeth chattered, but she clenched them tight.

With the lights dimmed and water lapping at her knees, Estelle found herself barely able to recognise Zaudé's halls. Her beautiful gown was soaked through and plastered embarrassingly to her skin, and when she reached up and swept her hair aside, she realised she didn't have a plan.

The doors won't open. Yuri wasn't coming back.

Estelle splashed and waded her way through the tunnels, thoughts flipping and skittering a hundred miles an hour as she desperately tried to think her way free of this mess. She was weeping in terror when Undine gave her a nudge.

The little boy had been huddling behind one of the decorative water-features, clinging to the stone fountain as the water crept higher still and hiding because he was confused and frightened. He was crying too. Estelle hiccupped her sobs down, then splashed her way to him.

"Shh," she soothed with a wobbling voice, reaching out for him. "Please don't be frightened. It'll be alright. Would you like to come with me?"

He stared at her like she was a ghost. She felt like one. Eventually he pried himself free of the fountain and reached out as well; she folded him into her arms and the child latched on to her gratefully, arms tight around her neck and face buried against her shoulder. Estelle rubbed his back as he cried and she moved onwards. It wasn't long until Undine found more kritya.

They hid in houses and had climbed stalls and were piecing together rafts from furniture. Estelle would never have found them if Undine hadn't been flooding the structure as completely as the water. She helped the elderly up from where they huddled, guided the children into the arms of the nearest adult and said over and over and over, "Hush now, it'll be alright. Follow me, let's go."

The truth of the matter was, Estelle didn't know where they were going. She didn't know how it was going to be alright. She just collected more and more of the terrified kritya and moved further into the sealed up shrine.

She just kept moving forward until the currents took her to the master dome.  
Estelle stared blankly at the crowd that had gathered there. They had congregated in the ceremony chamber like a flock of lost ducks. They stood where Alexei had fought them. They stood where Volt had been born.

Estelle tightened her grip on the little boy in her arms. An idea glinted in the ocean of her despair.

"Undine," she gasped.

**Of course, **replied the spirit, reading her thoughts. **Give me a moment.**

One minute the spirit had been filling her veins, the next she had simply vanished. Estelle shivered at the hollow sensation and waded her way further into the room. The people waiting there all looked at her desperately, water up to their hips and hair plastered to every head.

"Child of the Full Moon!"

"What's going on?"

"Did we do something wrong?"

"What happened?"

Estelle didn't know the answers at all, but she moved the little boy in her arms to her hip, then used her free hand to wave a sign for calm.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she told them. _I did. _"Please be patient, it'll be alright." _I hope. _"You mustn't panic. Help will be here soon."

It was the strangest feeling in the world when every single one of them trusted her enough to calm down. The sobbing became sniffles, and the panicked shouting became anxious whispers. Estelle reached down and scooped another child against her – this one was now up to her chin in cold water – and she waited patiently.

She wondered if this is how Yuri did it. Did he ever feel like a fraud, not really knowing if everything was going to be okay, but trying anyway? Did he ever lie to people's faces just for that one moment of calm?

Estelle clenched her eyes shut and waited.

The water crept higher. It was tickling her ribs by the time Undine finally returned, and the people of Myorzo cried out in shock as the spirit rose before them out of the sea water.

**He took some finding, **Undine said apologetically. She nodded at Estelle, then motioned upwards with her elegant chin. Estelle followed her line of sight and nearly cried in relief.

Volt hovered impatiently over the chamber, his crystal crown rotating like a carousel of obsidian.

**You need me? **he asked shortly.

"Volt," Estelle began, wondering how to pitch her voice. She licked her lips and plunged on. "Volt, we need you to make the elevator work again. It... It used to run on aer. It goes all the way to the surface. Please, I'll do anything."

**You named me, **he replied weirdly, and Estelle could only nod.

He held her gaze for one long, terrifying moment. After what felt like an eternity, he then turned his demonic red eyes about the room. They darted between unseen points of interest, scouring a pattern through the room with his focus.

Estelle was so busy trying to see what he did that she didn't notice that the spirit was expanding.

He inflated like a swelling balloon until his dancing strings of electricity touched the chamber's glass walls. It made the water fizz. The fizzing set her teeth on edge. The sensation was verging on being uncomfortable when then spirit began to spin.

Slowly at first, but faster and then faster again, lashing the walls with bolts until the impossible happened.

The elevator initiated, stuttering into existence in a glowing formula under their feet. It heaved, bulging the water upwards and making the Myorzian's scream. When the swollen water fell away in a cascade of cold, Estelle realised that they were rising. She fell to her knees with a gasp as the elevator left the seawater.

And still Volt spun, winding them upwards as if he were the winch on an ethereal well. Undine flew up with them as well, eyes hard and focussed as the elevator forced a tunnel into the sea and channelled them up through it.

The ocean was roaring and cold and blue all around them, close enough to be crushing. Estelle was shaking from the terror of it all when they rose high enough for sunlight to edge over the approaching exit. She was struggling to breathe when they finally surged up through the perfect cylinder cut into the surf and the cold wind blasted them with chill. She could barely manage a shout of surprise when Volt came to a sudden and jarring halt.

They sat huddled on an insubstantial disc of mana, a foot above the elevator drop as Undine poured the ocean back into the gap below with a deafening roar of water.

"Estelle!"

Her heart lurched, and she almost didn't have the courage to look up. But her name came again, unmistakable in that voice-breaking urgency. Estelle rose shakily to her feet and tottered over to the lip of the magic circle.

Karol was clamouring over the rocks, white faced and elated. There were knights all around him.

"Estelle, over here!"

"Karol!" she cried back, voice warbling. He splashed down as far as he could into the ocean, pants ballooning out around him, then held his arms out expectantly. Estelle almost didn't realise what he was doing, but the little boy perched on her hip sniffled loudly and it became clear.

"Quickly," she gasped, holding out the child to her friend. Karol was forced further out into the water, but eventually he got close enough to take the boy under the armpits and wade back to the rocks. He placed him carefully on dry land. The Myorzian's behind her all began rushing to the elevator lip at the same moment, just as the knights kicked free their plated boots and helms and splashed down with Karol to help.

The children were passed down first, precious little packages transferred between concerned hands until they were safely on solid ground. The elderly were next, and once they had been ferried to safety, Estelle began helping the others down.

She was guiding the last young man to the closest outcropping of rock when Volt, as abruptly as a blown light-bulb, simply winked out.

She plunged into the frigid waters with a half-realised shriek. It lasted as long as her breath held, then suddenly there was water in her mouth and up her nose and it was too cold to move. She rose spluttering just as a streak of blue splashed into the surf beside her.

Repede struggled for half a second and they went under together, her silvery dress tangling her legs and his weapons and chain weighing him down. He forced himself under her arm and she clung to him desperately, trying to help as he fought his way back to the surface in a burst of water. Silently, determinedly, he hauled them both towards the shore.

Karol was waiting, reaching out for them. He hooked a hand in Repede's collar when they were close enough and pulled.

They collapsed to the rocks together, a tangle of limbs and fur and dress and foam.

Repede lifted himself just enough to plop back down to an exhausted and miserable sit. He was drenched through and dismal, looking shaggy with his fur hanging from his frame in wet clumps. Karol prised his fingers from the metal links around his neck.

Estelle heaved in a breath that shook. She scrabbled to get up, but every joint quivered.

The best she could manage was to throw her arms around her canine companion and sob. She cried until her nose ran, and Karol sniffed noisily and reached his arms around them both to squeeze.

Repede let them do it, water dripping from his extinguished pipe and chin resting inconsequentially on Estelle's head. He heaved an long-suffering sigh.

Somewhere outside of the hysterical bubble of relief, the knights and Myorzions had splashed closer, concerned. They were wondering if she was alright.

Estelle wept into Repede's sodden fur until she had no more tears left.

.  
_oOo_  
.

On another side of the crater, Raven wasn't doing much better.

He'd been fishing for answers. Instead, things had quickly gone to hell the second they had stepped out into the sunlight.

Brave Vesperia was getting bigger than the sun. Rita had taken one look at the bloated blastia and had dropped to her knees as if the world was ending. The monks had collectively swooped on the mage, snatching the blastia core from her fingers and then fighting desperately to keep it away from her. She fought them with a level of fury that shocked Raven. It certainly terrified the monks, as they bound her ankles together and tied both of her fists behind her back the minute she ran out of steam.

Something was obviously wrong. He'd been hoping for answers, but maybe this wasn't the time for it...

And then the ground had shaken, and the ocean began to seethe.

Raven (almost half out of his hiding spot) had ducked down lower against the rocky outcropping and stared at the disaster in confusion. He was wondering what the hell was going on when Ba'ul had shot in overhead like an oversized arrow.

Shortly after that, the Imperial fleet arrived and started unloading soldiers onto the rocks like wasps swarming from a stoned hive.

Things had definitely gone to hell.

"The Empire!" one monk cried out.

"T-They'll murder us all!" another wailed.

Raven winced. He recognised the hysteria and wondered whether it would be Rita, the churning ocean, Ba'ul or the knights that would be the match to the powder-keg. He craned up to peer at the incoming soldiers hopefully. One of the battalions were marching up the carved steps in file, fanning out to surround the monks and effectively boxing them all in. The hope died. The soldiers were dressed in neither Flynn's blue nor LeBlanc's orange.

"Who's in charge here?"

Raven didn't recognise the man in the yellow Captain's uniform. He strode onto the clearing as if he owned all of Zaudé. Gold had been Halifax's regimental colour before he retired, but that had been a decade ago. Someone new. New enough that Raven didn't know him.

Damn.

"D-D-Don't come any closer!" the monk with Rita's blastia core shrieked. His companions lifted their weapons threateningly. The knights scowled and unsheathed their swords in retaliation. The atmosphere turned volatile and tense.

Raven grimaced. Trying to avoid too much attention, he crept up the rocks behind a line of cowering monks and slunk his way to the lone figure left forgotten by the edge of the crater. He came up behind her and, knowing she hadn't heard him, touched her carefully on the shoulder.

Rita swung away from him with a muffled snarl. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders to stop her struggling, but she thrashed against the grip furiously.

"Take it easy, Honey," he whispered in her ear. She settled after a tense moment and he waited half a second more before letting go. "Hate ta cut and run now that the cavalry's arrived, but we're gettin' outta here. Just let ole Raven take a look-see at these knots..."

The ones on her wrist were a mess. The handkerchief they'd used to gag her was done a little more artfully, so he tackled that first.

Raven ran his fingers through her hair until the knotted gag was free of tangles and he prised at the knot. It took some doing, but he managed to loosen the corded cloth enough to slip a few fingers between it and her cheek and pull it down past her lips. She coughed and spat as he worked the bond free completely.

"You _used _me," Rita managed thickly, turning her head to glare at him. Raven couldn't meet her eye.

"Now that just hurts, Rita-darlin'. 'Use' is _such _a harsh word-"

"Shut up, it doesn't matter. Forget about me, go get that core away from them!"

He hadn't been expecting that one and he paused, fingers still at the nape of her neck.

"Come again?"

"Are you deaf? _The blastia core! _Go!"

The monk holding it had his back to them; the unnamed Captain was reading him the International Sanctions act and generally putting everyone further on edge.

It was just an old, busted core. Rita had always been irrational about her blastia, but maybe this was different... Raven shrugged free his misgivings and unsheathed the dagger at his belt as quietly as he could. He worked it carefully between her wrists and cut her free.

"Listen to me!"

"First things first, darlin'," he muttered, hooking a hand under her elbow and lifting her to her feet. She drove a fist into his chest. Raven snatched at her hand but missed. She was already shoving monks aside by the time his blast-heart gave a jolt that made his blood boil.

The soldiers had already turned their swords and pikes in her direction. They had the cagey, anxious look of men confused enough to be dangerous, and Rita ignored every single order to halt.

_Aww, hell._

"Don't come any closer!"

The lead monk had spotted her, and he drew his arm back threateningly. The core winked between his fingers and Rita stumbled to a standstill with a cry of pure frustration and horror.

"Don't come any closer," he repeated, more confident now.

"Who... who are we arresting?" one soldier whispered to another, eyeing Rita with suspicion. He hadn't been quiet enough.

"Her! Arrest her! This-This _mage _has attacked Myorzo! She's a danger to our people! A criminal!"

"What?" came Rita's response. "Are you _dense_? If anyone here has half a brain, you'll get that blastia core away from these idiots!"

"She lies! She stole it! Keeper Elis spoke of it and it's ours!"

Rita took a threatening step forward, but the knights intercepted her this time, locking a pair of pikes in front of her in a crossbar. She shoved at the makeshift barricade with a snarl, and suddenly the knights where paying too much attention to the furious mage and not enough to the skulking, hysterical monks.

Raven's eyes darted to the Captain, hoping for some common sense. But the man was holding his tongue and smirking as if he was enjoying the show.

Something wasn't right. That much was clear in Rita's desperate, horrified eyes.

Raven carefully eased his folded transform bow into his hand and, rubbing at his searing chest, took a step to the left. The blade was pointed at the ground, non-threatening to anyone that might see it in his hand.

"Rita," he said, over the noise of the arguing knights. When she didn't respond, he tried again, louder and firmer. "Rita."

"And who the hell are you?" the Captain wondered snidely, but Raven ignored him. The slender mage had frozen at his voice. She slowly lifted her eyes and shot him a pleading look.

"Speak to me, Rita," Raven continued carefully. "You're the only one in the know, darlin'. So tell me. I'm trustin' your judgement here."

Rita's face was a cocktail of emotions, and fear bubbled to the surface for one sucking moment before she wrenched it under control again.

"Get," she said slowly, carefully, "that core away from them."

The monk jerked, suddenly the centre of attention again.

He had been sidling his way around the edge of the crater, trying to squeeze past the militia. Caught out, he licked his lips nervously and stared at the little core in his palm as if it was suddenly more dangerous than it was worth.

He was right.

The monk met Raven's eyes, blanched at what he saw there and then turned to the soldiers for support. He found none, and his face crumpled in panic. He spun to the churning surf and drew his arm back with a snap, intending to throw it into the white-wash.

An arrow took him through the shoulder with a _shwip_, so cleanly he didn't even know it until he tried to throw.

"Aarg!"

The blastia fell to the stone and rolled to a halt against an uneven cobble. The monk wheeled on the spot, pawing at the arrowhead poking out his front from a blooming stain of blood. His fingers closed over the metal point and he fainted shortly after, hitting the stone heavily. The kritya next to him ducked low to retrieve the dropped gem, but the next arrow split through his palm, ripping it away and stopping only when the quarrels met his knuckles. He didn't try again.

Raven shifted the transform bow to the next target, but the monks were suddenly swarming over the rocks and jumping into the surf in terror, leaving behind their companions without a second glance. He lowered his weapon with a small relieved huff. That was _that _taken care of. Now for the sold-

The punch came from his left and he didn't have time to dodge.

Lights exploded in his eyes, but Raven clutched at his searing heart instead. His grip tightened on the burning metal when the unnamed Captain grabbed him by his front and lifted him up to meet his eye. He looked ferocious and righteous and way too happy to have someone to hit. Raven knew his type. Sit back and watch until the powder-keg explodes, then sweep in after the worst is over to bring authority down on the stragglers. Less danger, more glory.

Young and stupid, then.

"These civilians are protected under the amnesty clause of the International Sanctions act," the rookie Captain said smugly. "Assault against those with diplomatic immunity is a crime against the Empire, I'll have you know."

Raven grinned back, meeting the man's eye.

"Good start, son. Been doin' your homework?" he asked blithely. He saw the next punch coming, but didn't bother evading it. The kid was looking for an excuse to do worse.

It struck him on the cheekbone with enough force to pull a muscle in his neck. But Raven kept his feet, shook his head to clear the buzz and lifted his eyes again. Sure enough, the Captain had a hand back, waiting for the next opportunity.

He didn't get it. Rita drove her fist into his face with enough force to drop him to the stone.

"Where the _hell _do you get off?" she demanded, chest heaving and face flushed. "He just saved all of your asses!"

Raven gaped at her. She flushed harder under his gaze, then promptly went white when she realised why he was so shocked.

The blastia core was still where it had fallen, nestled against the cobble and glinting under the noon sun.

She barely managed one foot in its direction when the soldiers fell on them both in a wave of clanking armour.

"Arrest them," the Captain spat, wiping blood from his cut lip with an ugly snarl.

"No wait, you have to listen!" Rita burst out. She kicked away a soldier trying to smother a hand over her mouth, then continued, "That core is all that's stopping Vesperia from breaching orbit! Don't you understand? Do you have any idea what will happen if something _that _size hits Terca Lumereis at speed? Listen to me!"

The Captain made his way to the core and picked it up. For one chilling moment, he stared at it as if wondering whether to throw it away. He eventually slipped it into a pocket.

"We'll see what Witcher has to say about that," he sneered. To his men, he flapped a hand angrily at the docked ship. "Lock them in the brig until the Commandant can deal with this."

Raven didn't bother trying to break away from the march back to the ship, but Rita fought every step of the sound of her panic gave the air a heaviness that made it hard to breath. The sight of Vesperia so damn big in the sky added to the weight.

And as Raven stared balefully up into its red face, he wondered just how they were going to get out of this one.

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_oOo_  
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* * *

**A/N: It feels weird updating from a public computer...**

**Hi all, sorry about the delay! Crazy work hours will continue for a bit, but I'm sure I'll squeeze in some writing time.**

**I want to thank everyone desperately for their awesome support and feedback! Rest assured that you haven't suffered through plot for nothing; mush is coming in the upcoming chapters prior to the finale. Believe me. They are scenes I've been hankering to write since the very beginning. Hopefully they will get uploaded soon.  
**


	19. Insanity

**19: Insanity**

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_oOo_  
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What was happening at Zaudé was chaos and insanity, stirred up together into what could only be called war. Ba'ul and the _Fiertia _screamed by overhead, so low that it made the stone shake underfoot. Another creature was close on his tail. They disappeared like sparring swallows behind a cloud before puncturing free in a wispy trail of white.  
Flynn tried not to let them distract him. A sword came in from his left and he parried sharply. It was only when he drew his own blade back for a retaliating strike that he realised his opponent was one of his own men. The wide-eyed corporal went white when he realising who he had been attacking.

He wasn't the only one confused.

_"It's going to be messy, sir. The strike vessels can't come any closer or we'll scuttle them on the rocks. I'll keep them on standby," LeBlanc had said, tromping across the gangplank angrily. "As for the flooding, we've evacuated the facility until the technicians are sure they can drain Dome Three without incident. That's more bodies above ground sir, and we have no way of discerning the hostiles from friendlies. On the bright side, I've been told that Princess Estellise has been recovered safe and sound from the basin."_

The soldiers had every right to be confused and no training to prepare them for this. The very kritya they had been ordered to protect would, on occasion, try to kill them with whatever weapon they could find. Judith had warned him that there would be converts amongst the old race.

There was no easy way to tell before the first strike happened. There wasn't enough authority to keep the confused, panicking foot-men from letting their nerves do real harm.

"_Damage Control," Sodia had explained, breathless from her dash from point to point. "The Captains are positioned around the crater, sir, and I have made them accountable for the closest exit and the kritya that leave through it. S-Sorry for the breach in command, but the Officers are spread thin, sir, and some of them are new. It should minimise friendly fire. Captain Scwhann is still unaccounted for.__ He'll be briefed when we find him."_

Flynn could see his goal; the bubble of calm was almost eerie, and it existed only to give Judith and her opponent the room they need to hack at one another. The fight was difficult to follow through the shifting bodies, but occasionally it was elevated above their heads in a spectacular display of acrobatics. Flynn knew it was the centre of the storm. He knew that was where Yuri would be.

"_We've patched on through to the Union, sir!" Witche__r had said, too excited to be smug. "I have the Guild Leader Kaufman on the other end of the line, and she will pass on co-ordinates to Clint of the Hunting Blades who are ready to intercept any runners should they break our defensive perimeter. They're eager to do this, and seem willing to call it the first act of the New Order. I'd say our negotiations were a success, sir."_

Flynn had dodged a club, tripped a bumbling soldier and battered a krityan aside before he could break through into the man-made arena. He didn't have time to catch his breath; he saw exactly what he expected to see not all that far away. He lunged forward.

He intercepted Yuri's blade before it found its mark and rolled it aside. It was a standard deflection, but the weapon lolled in his friend's grip like it would slip free at any second. Yuri tried to right himself, another simple thing, and he tripped instead.  
Stunned, Flynn caught him around the chest and staggered back a foot until they were both steady.

"Yuri!" he managed, shocked.

Yuri hissed, obviously injured. His face was slack and sweaty, grey and pinched at the corners. More than injured. It was a wonder he held his sword at all, let alone swing it at an opponent. Said opponent had been back-pedalling from Yuri's staggering advance; she paused now, cautious, and her thin, sunken face went tight at the sight of Flynn's uniform.

"Don't interfere, Flynn," Yuri ground out, eyes never leaving the skeletal woman.

"Yuri, what happened?"

"Let go."

Flynn made a grab for his friend's old sword, but it was twitched out of his reach. That look in his eye was unmistakable. The resolve was frightening.

"Think this through, Yuri," Flynn hissed furiously. "It's under control! It's over! Don't do anything you'll regret!"

"You _know _when it'll be over," Yuri retorted darkly.

The woman fell back another step. Flynn watched her cautiously, seeing a decrepit, emancipated old woman and not the irredeemable villain she must have been to warrant the death sentence in Yuri's eyes. He didn't see any evil at all.  
And then she smirked, and it was hard not to feel chilled. Yuri jerked against Flynn's grip suddenly. It was hard to push back against the violent surge and not hurt him, but the threat was real enough to make the smile slip from the woman's lips. Her companions saw it too.

Flynn saw the flash of silver almost too late and swung away, giving Yuri an unceremonious shove as he did.

The wild little krityan man slammed fist first into the stone where they had been standing, the blades on his gloves sunk up to the knuckle in the cobble. He lifted them with a spattering of rock, glanced up, then flipped backwards like a trapeze artist. He spiralled to a halt just as the spear skewered the space he'd been in moments before, vibrating up the length of the shaft and almost perfectly vertical.

Judith landed gracefully beside it and, ignoring the swearing, reached out to catch Yuri has he stumbled awkwardly from Flynn's shove.  
She gently righted him, then pulled her weapon from the ground.

"Friends of yours?" Flynn asked her as a third kritya – tall and well-dressed this time – joined the icy woman not so far away.

"These are the ones, yes," Judith replied.

It wasn't the force Flynn had been expecting. Two didn't even have weapons. But then, he had just waded through violent, bloody insanity to reach them. He had just given up all of his officers to pluck innocent kritya from a flooding facility. He had just stopped Yuri from throwing his life away to snuff out another.

Flynn sheathed his sword with a snap. Yuri's eyes went wide with objection.

"Flynn, are you _insa_-"

"I am Flynn Scifo, Commandant of the Imperial Forces and Chief of Defence to his royal highness, Ioder," Flynn announced clearly. "I am here on behalf of both the unanimous Council and the full vote of the Union. Until the events of Dahngrest and Heliord have been investigated to their fullest of capacities, Zaudé and the 'Keepers' in charge of the new movement are hereby under martial law, sanctioned by the New Order."

"-you can't be serious!"

"Martial law," the thin woman cooed. "… and how do you propose to maintain it so far out of your empire, Commandant?"

Flynn ignored the bait and held his tongue. Anyone could see the soldiers that surrounded the crater. Anyone could see the ships. She read his eyes and her smirk broadened.

"Don't flatter yourself that your armoured thugs and silly little yachts can keep us here."

"Careful, Commandant," Judith warned softly. Yuri said nothing, but his accusatory stare drilled into the side of Flynn's head and left doubt in the recess.

"This is not the time for heroics," he growled. It prickled at Flynn's temper, but he let the word 'heroics' slide past and went back to thinking like a law enforcer. He went back to trying to assert some order to what was otherwise pure chaos. After all, the worst kind of bloodshed happened without all the facts laid bare. The most horrible of injustices happened when all the other options were ignored for the quick and easy one.

"It would be in your best interests to surrender," Flynn advised the woman, ignoring his child-hood friend.

"Does the Empire even understand the interests of others?"

"No one else has to be hurt."

"Such fine words from the war monger."

"I have five brigades here to apprehend you. There are only three of you."

The cold wind whistled in from the blue sky, bringing with it the sounds of war. The woman with the arctic eyes smiled, amused.

"Count again, Commander," she murmured.

A shadow passed over the sun.

"NO!"

Judith had shouted it, voice so strained and hoarse it was barely recognisable.

Ba'ul plummeted out of the sky and struck the ocean like a felled tower, heaving up a wave that dwarfed the crater rim. When the sea-water struck the island, it sheared across its surface like a scythe, sweeping every soldier and monk and civilian off their feet and washing them like so many toy boats into the crater's basin. Flynn had wedged his blade in the ground as a brace; once the white wash receded, he coughed the salt water from his lungs and struggled to his feet.

Ba'ul gave a groan that made the air tremble. He sank into the surf as far as his bulk would go, a beached whale on the unforgiving rocks. The _Fiertia _was wrecked against the shore, half crushed under him.

The plateau had been swept of bodies. The three kritya remained, still in place behind a larger outcropping of rock that had sheltered them. Judith landed, completely dry, on one of the standing monoliths not so far away. Yuri was harder to find, but Flynn caught sight of the sodden bundle of black wedged on one of the last outcropping of rocks before the inner rim. With an arm that trembled as much as its partner hung motionless, the swordsman heaved himself up. He was at his limit. It didn't take a genius to see that.

Flynn staggered over to help him when the second entelexeia landed.

Izuna slammed down on Ba'ul's prone form with all talons out. It screeched loud enough to drown out the larger entelexeia's moan of agony. Blood stains the size of houses began to soak the blue fur of their largest comrade.

"JUDITH, HOLD!"

Flynn put as much command into the shout as he could. She wouldn't listen, of course, but hopefully she could be startled just long enough until… the air popped.

LeBlanc had been good on his word, as usual. Offshore, the flagship _Hestia _was lost in the smoke of its cannons, a squat, beastly silhouette in the haze. The cannonball punctured through that and clipped the Izuna's arching wing before lodging in the surf in a massive spout of foam and water. The entelexeia staggered over Ba'ul's fallen body, grappling with its claws for purchase, then blasted out a note of fury at the distant ship.

The second cannonball barely missed its broad, disc-like head.

Judith had paused long enough to be wary of the crossfire, but no longer than that. She was airborne in seconds, and shortly after that, she had landed safely on the rocks near Ba'ul's head. Flynn watched her crouch there, at a loss. Not so far away, the three kritya were clamouring towards Izuna in retreat.

Flynn was hoisting Yuri up by his good arm when they climbed up onto the furious entelexeia and settled between its shoulder-blades.

"We're done here. I have achieved what I came to do," the krityan woman said over the wind, smiling despite the cannonballs pocking the water all around. Whatever her mission had been, it brought a satisfied smirk to her lips.

It didn't take long for the smile to drop from her face entirely.

"Flynn!"

The figure that stumbled up the steps and towards them was indiscernible, a mountain of insulated blanket that was trailed by a host of soldiers from varying regiments. Yuri's head snapped up.

Estellise was barely recognisable with her hair plastered to her skull and her face as white as ashes. She clearly didn't even know where to turn her eyes. They lodged on Ba'ul and his seeping wounds before somehow, inexorably, they slid upwards to the woman bestride the other entelexeia.

They stared at one another.

"Elis!" the tall krityan man urged, lurching as Izuna shifted to dodge another cannonball.

The woman couldn't drag her eyes away from Estellise. She couldn't wipe the hate from them. She saw nothing else, and she was still staring when Izuna gave one final ear-splitting screech and began to beat its wings.

It was agonising to watch every shot from the _Hestia _miss, and it was agonising to hear the sound of pure frustration that tore itself from Judith's throat. But there was nothing they could do. The entelexeia lifted off with a wobble, twisted in the air to dodge the cannon fire, then was away across the ocean and picking up speed.

Ba'ul shuddered against the rocks, bleeding into the surf.

Flynn watched his targets shrink on the horizon. He wondered if the Hunting Blades would be good on their word. He was still fighting the feeling of futility when Yuri suddenly found his feet and pulled himself away.

The swordsman stumbled forward, tottering as if every joint in his body fought against him. Estellise gasped when she recognised the drenched form, and the second the sound of her voice reached him, whatever force that had kept Yuri going these past few hours left him all at once.

He dropped heavily and finally to one knee. Estellise shrugged out of her blanket, slipped and stumbled across the slick stone and then threw her arms around him.

Yuri grunted in pain, but something about the way he leant into her despite the hurt made Flynn take a reverent step back.

"Oh Yuri," Estellise was gasping. "Yuri, you're hurt. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I should have… I could have been here sooner!"

Her hands fluttered over him nervously. She appeared to be unsure where to begin, but she eventually swept his hair back from his eyes, cupped his face and touched her lips to his forehead, nose and lips in a series of desperate little kisses.

Flynn had never been so shocked by something that looked so natural. He took another step.

"I thought…" Yuri attempted against her mouth, but his expression twisted and whatever he thought was lost.

"I'm alright. Everything is alright," Estellise whispered.

She began to glow, pulsing with healing artes as she dropped her hands to Yuri's shoulder.

Flynn turned away from them and glanced at Judith and Ba'ul instead. They were distant, but Flynn could make out the krityan's one tiny hand against her friend's muzzle, not big enough to embrace him as she obviously wanted to. That scene was just as emotional, just as private.  
Estellise wouldn't be able to heal an entelexeia. Flynn hoped desperately that Ba'ul would be alright.

"Thanks Karol."

Yuri's voice came out husky and raw in the cold air. The tone was heartfelt and earnest – a rare thing for the swordsman – and that just gave it more weight. Much to Flynn's surprise, Karol looked apologetic and sheepish when he made his way to them with the discarded blanket.

"Uh... Estelle, right? B-but I didn't do anything. I mean I tried, but…" he said as he laid the blanket over Yuri's shoulders. Estelle took the ends of it and wrapped it tight. When she was satisfied with the cocoon of insulated warm, she resumed her healing, too distracted to reply.

"Then Flynn," Yuri managed next. That hurt. Flynn hadn't even known Estellise was in grave danger until the reports came in of her safe return.

"I- I regret that I wasn't in a position to…" he stuttered, ashamed.

Estellise rose from her concentration with a huff, wet, straggly hair tickling her forehead and cheeks flushed from the biting cold.

"Pardon?" she mumbled, blinking. "Oh! Um. I managed to get out myself, and… well, I had help. Undine and Volt did all of the hard work. I just…" She shrank a little under Yuri's stunned look and ducked her head. "You were so hurt, Yuri. Because of me and… I..."

The look on his face made Flynn wince.

Estellise was too busy avoiding his eye to notice. When she ran her wrist over her forehead nervously, that shadow in Yuri's gaze remained. When she finished her healing and straightened his drenched tunic instead, it had settled in, heavy and dark. And when she shyly dropped her forehead to his healed shoulder, he looked down at her with that same tortured expression.

There was desperation and guilt in the way he wrapped an arm around her and squeezed.

Flynn had to turn away from the unfamiliar expression of failure on his friend's face.

Karol was the only one not locked in a private world, but he was gaping at the couple before them as if he hadn't seen anything like it before. Their romance was new, then. Flynn cleared his throat and tugged the guild leader a respectable distance away.

"There's a lot to clean up here, Karol," he pointed out tactfully. Karol drew himself back to the present with a mangled gesture: half a head shake, mostly a nod.

"Y-yeah. Ba'ul. What are we going to do? Ba'ul needs help, and I'm not sure I have enough first aid in my bag for… You guys have medics, don't you? A-and then there's the lock-down. I don't think there's anyone left inside, but they're probably gonna need Rita to get back into…"

Something clicked in his eyes then, and he frowned.

"Karol?" Flynn prompted. The guild-leader glanced around the clearing and pulled a face.

"… Where's Raven and Rita?"

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_oOo_  
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_Drip, drip, drip._

Rita counted every bead of ocean that seeped through the ship's welded joints. It was driving her mad, but the leak was past the iron bars and out of reach. She could only watch as the water gathered on the end of one rounded rivet, swell, and then fall to splash against the cold metal below.

_Drip, drip, drip_.

She counted each and every one, because the numbers were better than the alternative.

She was going mad. It was the only explanation. It was insanity it is most sickening, humiliating extreme.

What kind of madwoman acted that way? Rita Mordio had always prided herself on knowing what mattered and what was folly, of seeing through sentiment to the core of things.

She didn't even know the girl that had punched the idiot Captain in the teeth. She was an irrational, emotional stranger. Rita replayed that one heartbeat over and over again, searching for the moment when she had made that decision.

Blastia or Old Man.

The truly insane part was there had been no moment. The madness was that she had decided nothing. For the first time in her life, her brain had had no input in her actions; something deceptively stronger had flooded her chest, shoved her forward, powered that punch.

Insanity.

And as the water _drip, drip, dripped _into the bilge, Rita realised that the crazy had been lurking underneath it all for some time. She hadn't had a sensible, uncluttered thought since Volt had been born. Since they had arrived at Zaudé. Not for days. Weeks? When had it started?

"Stupid," she breathed darkly.

Since she had realised he was avoiding her.

"Hey, morons! I know you can hear me!" Rita burst out desperately. They hadn't heard her yet, but she suddenly had to try again. "You better unlock this cell, I mean it! Don't make me blow a hole in your stupid tin-can of a ship!"

"Save your breath, darlin'."

Her head hit the bars with a _thunk._

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be insanity.

Rita turned with a scowl.

Raven sat on the bunk in the dank cell, managing to look comfortable on the lumpy, stained mattress laid out on the metal slab. He rubbed some sleep from his closed eyes. Rita glared at him.

She wasn't sure when it had happened, but she _trusted _the two-faced, double-crossing old bastard. She trusted him enough to rely on him. She had relied on him to fix what she couldn't without an explanation. And he had.

It wasn't until that fat-mouthed Captain had swung the first punch that she realised it wasn't a one-sided trust. Raven had known what he was getting in to. He'd done it anyway. By the time the second punch had been thrown, all of her recent stress and frustration and hurt and trust became clear.

She had recognised what emotion was twisting her thoughts. She knew just where her trust had been born from.

Rita flushed red in the dank gloom.

He cracked an eyelid and caught her staring at him.

"... You're not still upset about the monks, are ya? Go easy, Honey, too much stress and frettin' is bad for a young lady. I was just-"

"You were using me as a distraction, I get it," she said dully. Her eyes ran a quick circuit over the unkempt archer, wondering why it had to be him. Suddenly angry, she folded her arms over her chest and squeezed until the swell became an ache.

She thought it was supposed to be different. She had thought it would make sense, be more obvious.

But it wasn't. It wasn't as clear as Estelle made it out to be, or as easy as Judith said it was. It wasn't even as natural as Karol made it look.

She couldn't _think._ That's all it was for her. Suffocating and annoying and uncomfortable and distracting and a broken little blastia core, forgotten on the rocks. That was the unforgivable part. She could have ignored and put up with anything... but something that interfered with her work?

Enough was enough.

"I don't have to put up with this," she said darkly.

"Aaw, I dunno. As far as dank, leaky prisons go, this one ain't too shabby," Raven mused.

"You're an idiot," she snapped in reply. She nearly choked on the words when she added, "and I really hate that you've turned me into one too."

Time stretched out torturously long into the silence, piling up and crushing down with each heartbeat. When the seconds began to crack under the weight of minutes, Rita gave a heartfelt shudder and snapped.

"So," she announced spitefully, loud enough to echo, "something has to change. And what _I _want to know is when do I get my brain back. When do I get to the part where I can think about work again and… and not about _you_."

His eyes snapped open, a flash of startled cyan.

Rita curled her hands into shaking fists and glared at him through her humiliation. She thought of the forgotten little blastia core, and told herself again that this was the _sensible _thing to do.

When Raven finally turned her way, she bristled furiously at the searching, disbelieving look she found in his eyes.

"Huh?" he managed eloquently.

The disbelief was weirdly insulting.

"So how does this work," she demanded venomously. "This can't _all _be my problem. Somehow it has to be your fault."

"Ya lost me," he said, dread in his eyes.

The truth lodged in her throat like a barb. She must have looked as insane as she felt, face contorting into various degrees of rage, disgust and indignity.

"I… like you," she ground out, wanting to hit him with the fact.

"No you don't," he replied instantly.

"Shut up! You don't get a say in this!" Rita snapped. She let the angry silence stetch before continuing, "It's dumb and I can't help it, but there it is. You. I don't get it either, but for some reason it's _you._"

He actually looked terrified. Rita wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but fear wasn't it. She was looking for a good, logical reason for it to stop. All he had to do was guffaw and give her a condescending pat on the head. That might have worked to put it all in perspective. She could have shelved this damn weakness like every other bad idea she had had and let it gather dust until it didn't matter anymore. Until it didn't twist her insides.

But the fear didn't help at all. It left a yawning gap in the dingy, damp cell that was begging to be filled with _something_. Rita glanced around the dripping cell desperately. It didn't give her any ideas.

How did people make this emotional crap work?

"But…"

His voice came out weird in the metallic space. Raven struggled visibly. The effort pulled at his features when he finally said, "You're kiddin', right? Pullin' ole Raven's leg? Is... is this Judy's idea? Payback for all the times I-" He recoiled from her glare. "But… I'm _old. _I'm old enough ta be your _father_."

Rita could only gape at him.

"Is that all?" she managed, shocked and indignant. "But… that's dumb. What's age got to do with anything? If I… I mean, my entire life! Having to work with those stupid, antiquated old geezers with no help… Where would I be if I let my _age _matter_. _No, that's not good enough. Who cares. I want a logical reason why it wouldn't work so I can get on with my damn life. You know. A real reason."

Raven didn't have one. That much was clear on his blank, horrified face. Rita flung an arm out wide.

"Come on! A good reason can't be hard to find! You're not even trying." He didn't reply. "It's because I'm not girly enough, right? You know, I… I don't look like Judith." Again, that sucking, hollow silence. "I suppose I hit you too much, even if you do deserve it."

He was just sitting there with a caught expression on his face. When he spoke, his voice was calm and distant.

"Uh… Guards?"

She stared at him, speechless.

Wasn't this stuff supposed to be easy? Estelle made emotion look _good_, like fear or embarrassment or bashfulness was another kind of pretty and not something broken and ugly. Karol and Nan were idiots, and they seemed to be managing. Even Yuri appeared to have some game-plan in his thick, clueless skull.

Rita was the genius. What was it that _she _was missing?

"This would be _so_ much easier if you just told me just what the problem was! Don't sit there like a- like a half-wit! I can compromise, alright?" Rita had meant it to sound firm and educated and lofty, but it sounded pathetic instead. Feeling crazier by the second, she said, "I-I'll be a girlier person. Feminine, whatever. I won't do half of the stuff that you hate so much, and I won't make a big deal out of it in front of anyone. It can be a secret, you seem to like those. And... And seriously, whatever's not working, I can …"

The words stumbled to a halt. Rita was left stammering and shocked.

When had she stopped looking for an excuse and started reaching for a chance?

Raven's caught, cagey expression shifted into one she didn't understand.

"I'm too old," he said again, as if she hadn't heard him.

"I don't care," she replied hazily, in much the same way.

The shadows carved silhouettes of emotion onto Raven's features, almost there but not quite. Rita could have sworn she saw the outline of regret.

It was gone before she could catch it. He glanced aside. When Raven brought his eyes back, all that discomfort was gone, hidden away behind the broken shutters of his stupid old man act.

He swung himself up onto his feet as languidly as a cat, smirking and smug.

"Weeeell, I s'pose it was only a matter of time," he drawled, dusting himself off. "I tells ya, how's a young lady supposed ta resist these manly charms? It's just cruel, that's what it is. Well never fear, _kitten, _Daddy's here ta make it aaaall better."

You could hear the ocean, emptying itself into the ship's bilge one droplet at a time.

_Drip, drip, drip._

Rita was as cold as ice when she made her way to him. It was ice so cold that it burned when she punched him as hard as she could in the stomach.

His breath and bravado left him with an '_oof'. _Raven sank to his knees, clutching his gut and managing a wry grin through it all.

"… I deserved that," he wheezed. Rita followed him down relentlessly, taking two fistfuls of his black collar and giving him a rough shake.

"You _coward_," she snarled, intending to rattle the stupid out of him. Somehow, in another of those decision-less moments, she hauled herself up instead.

Their lips met roughly and unevenly. Raven reeled back slightly from the impact, but didn't move much further after that. He didn't move at all, not even against the angry crush of her mouth. That infuriated her, but after a searing moment of outrage, Rita realised that she was kissing him, not pummelling him. It was not, in fact, an attack.

She pulled back, cursing herself.

"Wait, not like that," Rita muttered. She took a breath, re-evaluated her strategy and then tried again. She caught the swift intake of his breath on her lips, then there was no air between them at all.

When she was gentle, she was suddenly aware of how warm he was. When she was gentle, his lips were soft but a little rough and all kinds of intoxicating when she moved hers over them. She shifted them now, curiously, fascinated with how comfortably they fell together in all the right places. It was an overwhelming contrast to the course stubble scratching against her chin, and when she wobbled on her knees, the uneven sound of their lips parting was her undoing.

Rita pulled back, loosening her fists on his collar and then instantly tightening them again before he could see. They had been shaking.

"That... That wasn't so bad," she declared to herself stubbornly.

Raven watched her with wide, dazed eyes.

"... Nah, it wasn't," he marvelled.

"No big deal." It was hard not to be defensive. It was hard not to backpedal. "A-and just for the record, this is about _work, _because someone in this cell doesn't like being a moron. It makes sense. I'm not that pathetic."

He eyes travelled over her face, still disbelieving. It made her flush hotly, because without the fear there, it was a different expression all together.

"_Too old. _What kind of gutless jerk uses that as an excuse to run," Rita muttered, face so red it was scalding.

"The worst kind," Raven replied, finally managing a small smile. He closed his eyes and breathed in. Rita was just thinking about prying her fists free of his collar when he lifted a hand to her cheek, guided her face closer and kissed her back.

It never occurred to her that he might want this too. Rita went still. Eventually the coaxing little kisses softened her frozen lips and everything began to tingle. Rita didn't know what worried her more: that for the first time in her life she wasn't in control, or that he was so damn good at this. By the time he caught her upper lip between both of his, she wilted a little, shifting gracelessly forward until suddenly his arms were around her and she was crushed against his chest.

There wasn't much room for doubt in that tight embrace. There was no mistaking that desperation. He was as insane as she was, and who'd have thought?

Time passed weirdly when every kiss scattered the minutes like ants in the rain. It was only when her lungs began to burn that she broke away to catch her breath and reassemble her thoughts.

She was still surprised that he cared. She was still insulted that he had put so much effort into hiding it.

"… Idiot," Rita muttered, pursing her weirdly swollen lips.

Sense made a shy, slow return after that. Rita gathered it up reverently, grateful to have a set of complete thoughts in her head even if they worked their way there as sluggishly as treacle. Sometime later, when Sodia finally descended from deck to examine the mysterious criminals in the hold, reality thundered in like a swift, cold chill into a warm room.

Rita had guiltily shot to her feet and retreated to the corner of the room in a mess of rumpled clothes and wobbly limbs, turning away to glare at the metal walls furiously as she tried to will her blush away. Sodia had been mortified to find a Captain of the Imperial forces behind bars; she so busy apologising for the misunderstanding that she didn't notice.

Not the blush, not the intense glare at empty space, not the silly, vague smile on Raven's face.

The lieutenant was still officious and oblivious when she had fumbled the key into the cell door and swung it open. That helped. Rita had almost rubbed the blush from her face when they moved to follow the red-head.

She was watching Sodia's retreating back when a hand touched her shoulder.

"Rita?"

Rita paused at the base of the stairs and turned. She jolted in surprise when Raven pressed a smile to her temple, lips warm through her hair.

"…Don't change a thing, darlin'."

She wanted to scoff. In one of those strange moments, she smiled instead.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: Weirdest. Confession. Ever.  
But worth every moment of it. Rita deserves the time it took to nut that out, and noone will ever convince me she would enter the world of romance easily or gracefully.**

**Yuri has a bit to work through yet, however, and I feel it is fitting that no-one but Flynn realises this. I look forward to it, yes I do. As ever, thank you for the incredibly awesome feedback and wonderful support!**


	20. Together in Strife

**20: Together in Strife**

.  
_oOo_  
.

It was floating in one of the hundreds of rockpools, a pearly white kayak amongst the seaweed and shells.

Karol set down his hammer and bucket of nails to pick the giant feather up. It flashed opalescent when he twisted it under the sun, large and straight and sharp enough to be a sword in his hand. The plume tugged in the wind. Karol fought the breeze for a moment before letting it go.

He watched Izuna's feather tumble and spin across the crater until, near the inlet, it wedged up against one of the rocks.

"That should do for now, Capel. We should head back," Sodia called out. She stood on the barest edge of the rock pools, side stepping the caught feather as if it carried disease.

If she was tired from the hours of manual labour, she didn't show it. There was a pretty flush to her cheeks from the hard work, and her wind-swept hair was that little bit more impish and chaotic… but she stood as straight and steadfast as she had when the tools had first been handed out. It was strange, Karol realised, that he hadn't really said two words to her until today. She still hadn't said much – she worked harder and quicker than anyone else building the temporary shelters – but it was nice to be around _someone _when things were so bleak.  
The dire helplessness didn't seem to affect her at all. She just toiled on, efficiently and stubbornly making her little corner of the ordeal better. Karol didn't know where she found the determination.

He had none left. The last of it had been driven out of him when he had been working with the carpenters. It had been a plank intended to finish off a raft. It was a silly thing to notice after all those hours of work, but that piece of planking had been special.  
The letters '_ERTIA_' had been carved into it.

Someone had torn apart what was left of the _Fiertia _for the precious wood. No-one had told him. Karol hadn't even known the ship was being dismantled until he had seen those letters under his splinter-riddled hand.

He had frozen there, hammer hovering over his shoulder. It was just a ship, he had reasoned. Just a second-hand old thing given to them by Kaufman. But so many important pieces of his life had been built on that deck, in the warmth and security of its hold, in the sweeping views over its guard-rail. Belatedly, he had driven the nail home with one single, final blow.

The _Fiertia _was gone. Another piece of wreckage left in the Geraios' wake.

It was someone's raft now. The kritya needed the floating platforms to set the tents on. It could be a few weeks before the technicians could make Zaudé safe again, and Karol reassured himself he was alright losing his home so that someone else might have one.

It didn't make the ache go away. Karol was heavy with it when Izuna's feather finally unsnagged from a rock and spiralled away over the waves.

Sodia waited patiently without a word.

They moved together past the network of rafts built to float in the basin. They wove through the clusters of vague, shocked kritya that sat on those bobbing, makeshift streets. They slowed when they passed the scaffolding built over Ba'ul, but the hurried medics didn't seem to be faring any better than the last time Karol had checked in on them.

Karol and Sodia trudged the rest of the distance to the Command Centre, silent and morose and introspective.

Someone had done their best to establish a space for the officers to organise the relief effort. There were clusters of soldiers everywhere, and at the centre of it all was the largest table Karol had ever seen. It was one of the _Hestia_'s cannon guards, laid across a dozen barrels. Small groups of people had pulled crates up around it as chairs.

"Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back," Sodia told him, giving him a curt nod before striding away.

Karol slowly pulled a crate up to the metal table and sank down on it, feeling overwhelmed and tired and spent.

He was the only one alone.

For all the soldiers and kritya around him, everyone seemed to have _someone _to talk to. They were like drifting, self-contained bubbles of drama. Karol shifted his eyes between them all, feeling like an outsider.  
He found the first familiar faces on the other end of the table.

A box had been dumped on the metal, soggy at the edges. LeBlanc stood beside it and rummaged around inside with an angry and unimpressed scowl. Yuri watched him do it apathetically.

"-survivors were pretty clear, Lowell. Not sure what it is you want me to say that they couldn't. You must have heard the accounts a dozen or so times by now."

Yuri remained silent and sullen. LeBlanc scowled all the harder and tried to drag the box a little way down the table in an unsubtle gesture; the swordsman followed calmly, undaunted.

"Some of us are busy!" the lieutenant grumbled. "My report covers all the details and interviews as per regulations. Read that."

"Gee, I can hardly wait," Yuri replied drily. "Tell you what, how about you save me the embarrassment of passing out from the excitement and give me a run down now."

Karol could actually see the lieutenant's nostrils flare from where he sat, and he shook his head in silent exasperation. LeBlanc managed his temper by bristling his moustache instead of shouting, but the glare remained. He was still simmering with it when he went back to rummaging through the box.

"_As per my report_, the survivors claim that she sought out and gathered up all the stragglers before leading them through the flooding facility. Doors were in lockdown, of course, but the Princess had that under control. Got the elevator working again without aer, lord knows how. As to be expected from her highness," LeBlanc said in a clipped manner.

"You're not surprised," Yuri pointed out.

"Of course not! No locked door could ever keep her highness from going where she wanted to in the castle! Why, the amount of hours we spent trying to find her in that library of hers, I laugh at the villains that tried!" The lieutenant gave a satisfied grunt, then lifted up one bundle of clothes reverently. It was Estelle's dress, folded neatly.

"The door wasn't locked, she was paralyzed," Yuri muttered, taking the parcel slowly and staring at it blankly. It was such a bleak and hollow look that even LeBlanc paused.

The moment stretched miserably on. Karol winced, not even sure where the gloom was coming from.

LeBlanc was as much at a loss as Karol was. He gave Yuri a solid stare that was, for once, less reprimanding and more evaluative. Eventually the stocky officer cleared his throat noisily and went back to his pile of clothes. He lifted up and then dumped Karol's bag on the pile in Yuri's hands with more force than necessary.

"There was no paralysis in _my _report," he declared haughtily, tone lecturing. "The Princess would never stay idle when there were people in need. Remember that! Not Lady Estellise, oh no! Only a common thug like you would doubt her resolve. Her will to go on! That's commitment and honour, Lowell. Commitment and honour! And class! And a heart made of stronger stuff than men like you or me!"

Yuri blinked, roused from his doldrums.

"… Why, lieutenant," he said with a slow grin. "I didn't know you were a fan."

"What? No!" LeBlanc snapped. "I'm making a point, Lowell! For once in your disruptive, lawless life, listen to your elders! Commitment and Honour is the key to greatness… Even a rapscallion like you should understand that!"

"R-_Rapscallion_?" Yuri's snort broke into a mocking laugh. The gloom dissipated at the sound of it, and with a very cavalier shrug, Yuri tucked his bundle under an arm and grinned. "Alright, alright, I can take a hint, pops. You want some alone time. I'd better go before you call me a '_scallywag' _and really hurt my feelings."

"Ingrate!"

With that, LeBlanc hauled his soggy box from the tabletop. They made a good show of ignoring one another when they turned and moved off in different directions, but for all the bluster and mocking, both were smiling.

"Adults are so weird," Karol muttered, shaking his head.

He turned his gaze further to the left, searching out any other familiar faces in the bustle.

The next set was actually on the edge of the plateau, closest to where the _Hestia _was docked. Its communication console had been dragged out and set up on a crate, thick bundles of wires snaking out of it and stretching up to the vessel.  
Flynn leant over the console, a strange receiver pressed to his chest while he bent in quiet conversation with the man next to him. Raven was sitting on the bank of electronics as if it were a park bench and not listening at all. At some point something Flynn said sparked his attention and the faraway, wistful look in his eyes faded.

"Huh? You say somethin'?"

"Burleigh and his men, Captain. The one who assaulted you. I was just saying that even in the circumstances it warrants a court martial. Do you want me to press charges?"

Karol hadn't been able to get a straight story from Rita about what happened after the flooding. He looked closer now and saw the almost-bruise blooming under Raven's left eye. The archer smiled through it, that same serene look he'd had all afternoon, and didn't even complain. Not a single childish, whining complaint. Weird.

"Nah, go easy on the kid," he said instead. "It's not like I was wearin' the uniform, and even experienced men woulda had some trouble sortin' through that mess. A couple of years under his belt and you'll have a fine officer in your ranks. If it makes ya feel any better, he stuck ta the letter of the law like a pro."

"Unlike you," Flynn murmured, suddenly thoughtful.

"Who, me? Raven the Great? Hard ta break the Imperial law when you're from the guild city, Commandant."

Not for the first time, Karol felt a strange sense of discomfort at that clever glint in his older friends eyes. It made him feel like he didn't really know him.

Flynn, on the other hand, didn't seem surprised at all. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the receiver muffled at his chest began hissing slightly. A voice so mangled by the hissing and warbling it was unintelligible rang through, but when Flynn lifted it from his chest, it was lost again in all the static and clicks and beeps.

The Commandant breathed in deeply through his nose and bent over the console to twist a few dials. He was still fine tuning when he spoke next, carefully and clearly.

"About that, Captain... I have a proposition for you."

"Hmm?" Raven was smiling vaguely, slowly zoning out again.

"I know you've been representing the Knights as Schwann against your wishes, and I thank you for it. And the work you've done with the guilds. If not for your combined efforts, it would have taken a decade for the New Order to find its footing between the factions. I'm not exaggerating when I say you've halved that time."

Raven ruffled his haystack hair and glanced aside, dismissive. Flynn exhaled slowly.

"… But there is one final thing the New Order needs. Harry of Altosk and I have been discussing it and we have agreed that that thing is you. We want you to command it."

Karol inhaled so sharply it snagged in his throat, making him splutter. You could have knocked Raven over with a feather.

"The rank will officially be First Captain," Flynn continued calmly, still staring at the console, "and you will answer only to myself and Harry. Your direct authority will encompass the entire Order, but it also comes with diplomatic privileges over the Captains and Guild Leaders of both the Union and Empire. It means relinquishing your role as Schwann Oltorain and your position in Altosk, but this structure will establish the final link between the factions."

He glanced at the dumbstruck archer for the first time, and a small smile tweaked at his lips.

"I can't force this on you, Captain. If you can recommend someone else for the position with the… unique experience required, I'd be happy to discuss it."

The receiver trilled sickly before wobbling back to normalcy. Kaufman's tinny voice emerged through the noise and Flynn silently held the receiver out.

"It's entirely up to you," he said seriously.

It felt like an eternity before Raven slowly took the receiver. He stared at it sightlessly for a moment, heedless of Kaufman's impatient quips, then gave a resigned sigh.

"You drive a hard bargain, Commandant," he said wryly, then lifted the receiver to his mouth.

Karol left them to it, mulling over what he'd just overheard.

He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. Maybe he had always secretly expected Raven to continue being that unassuming source of advice from the sidelines. The idea that he could have a life beyond that of a mentor was weirdly unsettling.  
Karol nursed the strange feeling of abandonment as he glanced around for a distraction.

He found it on the opposite end of the table, bent over an assortment of books and bric-a-brac.

"I handled this personally, you know. No one else could do it," Witcher was saying pompously. With reluctance, he added, "… It _is _a temporary repair, however. The lesion will probably come back after a dozen or so uses."

The young mage held out a fist and released something into the waiting palm beside him.

"It only has to work _once_," Rita mumbled. She examined the core critically. She eventually huffed, satisfied, then placed the blastia core on a sheet of paper. "You have no idea how glad I am to see this. That idiot Captain was going to throw it into the sea without even knowing what the hell it was. You guys screen new recruits for stupid, right?"

"I apologised for that already!"

They spent some time fussing over the little gem, twisting and aligning it on the page for some reason Karol couldn't fathom. They snapped and shoved at each other the whole while, barely keeping civil for the sake of science. Eventually Rita was satisfied enough to start up her research panel. Witcher reached past her to twist and move the core while she continued to type furiously through the analysis. After a diligent minute, the Imperial mage jabbed a finger at the lines of code.

"There. Co-ordinates," he said.

"I see it," Rita replied. "… and that's not good news. Look at those numbers. Even slowing Vesperia's descent speed by 65%, it'll still hit the sea of Ilyccia before reaching any sort of land mass."

"Oh, that's bad," said Witcher, in a voice that said it was worse than bad.

"All that water and intersecting tectonic plates. It can't get worse."

Witcher pulled a notebook from his oversized robes and began scribbling furiously.

"Without intervention," he muttered, "it hits the dividing sea at those speeds. Ilyccia splits down the middle. The mountain ranges around Aurnion will save it from any tsunami caused by the deep impact, but there's no islands to shield Zaphias , Capua Nor or Torim. The damage will be devastating. And that's on the other side of the circle sea. There won't even be a Nordopolica or Zaude left to rebuild…"

Karol stared out over the view at the ramshackle wooden rafts, horrified. They were talking so calmly. Rita was always so serious about her work. Somehow, he had expected there to be another level of seriousness in her, an indication that _this _work was more important that the last. But they were so calm. They talked about the loss of thousands – _hundreds _of thousands – of lives with studious frowns.

Brave Vesperia was burning the sky behind him. He didn't have the courage to turn and look at it with fresh, understanding eyes. The back of his neck tingled uncomfortably.

"This isn't good. We'll never have the power required to transmit data all the way to the blastia."

"You did it before! That's why it's moving!"

"Idiot! That overload almost destroyed the core after half a second of output! We need it to run longer than one unstable second, and we're not going to do it with any mana converters!"

"Maybe if…"

Karol jumped when a hand touched his shoulder. He spun guiltily to find Estelle standing beside him. He almost didn't recognise her; the princess was pale with fatigue and breathing in shallow, exhausted little bursts. Regardless, the concern and sympathy in her green eyes was very real.

"Is something wrong, Karol?" she asked, brows furrowed.

He could only gape at her. She was in a white smock made of thick, bleached leather, sleeves down to her wrists and a pair of heavy-duty gloves tucking them in place. Both were covered in blood. Big, shocking splashes of it, all the way up to her elbows, all over her front. The sight of it made him feel faint. Estelle followed his mortified gaze and went a little white herself.

"Oh, I… I can't believe I forgot…" she stammered, struggling out of the smock. She bundled the gloves into it and folded it inside out to hide the gore, then went and shoved it under a crate away from view. She was trembling slightly when she pulled up a barrel next to Karol and took a seat.

He didn't know what to tell her. He was overwhelmed with how dire the world felt at that bare metal table and had nothing to offer her.

They sat silently together as the world stewed away in quiet, segregated knots of disaster. They said nothing even when Flynn began to usher the kritya and uniformed soldiers away from the Command Centre. The crowds took the supplies, engines and tools with them, relocating down on the rocks to give the officers some privacy.  
All that was left were a few lieutenants and captains, the members of Brave Vesperia and the communications console, wheeled closer to the metal table.  
Even after the area had been cleared of the clutter, there was a strange sense of waiting.

The feeling passed when Judith finally arrived, face cold and placid when she took a seat across from Karol.

Her expression terrified him as much as Brave Vesperia did.

"It looks like we're all present," Flynn decided, placing the receiver face up on the table.

"_Figuratively speaking," _Kaufman replied with a smirk in her relayed voice.

"Alright, some of us are not as up-to-date with the situation as others," the Commandant declared. "I think now would be a good time to recount what we know. First off, is there an update on Ba'ul's condition?"

Judith's face remained blank and stony. The wait for her to speak became stretched and awkward; Estelle was the first to break under the pressure and answer for her.

"H-He has been stabilised. We've managed to stop the bleeding and knit some of the deeper wounds close, but he's still lost a lot of blood. It… may take some time for him to recover from that and… and..."

She trailed off, and Karol realised that her trembling had become a deep, distressed quake. Judith's expression shifted at that. She finally spoke up.

"Izuna's claws were poisoned. Elis, I assume," she said blackly, as brutal and unapologetic as death. "As far as I can tell, it's an inhibitor for aer intake. Without the ability to consume and process aer, Ba'ul won't be able to heal himself on his own. It may take weeks to wear off, and in that time he won't be able to eat, expend energy or…"

"Or create an apatheia," Rita realised aloud with a horrified expression.

Judith's face hardened again, and the mage went bright red, realising her lack of tact far too late.

"B-But… t-that's okay…" Karol tried to breathe in, but there was a leaden ball lodged in his throat. He struggled with it before continuing, "E-even Ba'ul needs bedrest, right? So long as he doesn't… push himself…"

Without food, he may very well starve. Without an apatheia, there would be no spirit conversion. The weight of the realisation settled down like an anvil, and suddenly it was hard to breathe. Suddenly, it was impossible to look into Judith's eyes.

No-one knew what to say. Karol turned his eyes down to his hands, twisting and knotting at his trousers compulsively.

"_Who _is _this Elis_?" Kaufman eventually demanded, the first to break the silence.

"A remnant from Temza," Judith replied simply. "A historian for the people there before the Great War."

"_Why is she infiltrating my guilds?_" That voice was Harry. There must have been a group of them crowding the communicator in Dahngrest.

"Revenge," Judith replied calmly.

"But on that scale?" Flynn managed.

Judith smiled tightly.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," said she. "Before the war, she had chosen an entelexeia to bond with that did not agree with her ways. She lost him when he aided the humans that fought the entelexeia on Temza, and she lost him again when the humans murdered him out of fear."

"Elucifer," Estelle breathed, eyes wide.

"So much is lost once the nageeg are severed, and the mind is never quite the same," Judith mused coldly. "She's quite mad, now. And very dangerous."

"But _why_," Sodia wondered. "Why Dahngrest? Why Heliord?"

"Because she is delivering justice, in her broken mind. Not only Estelle for the oversight of Brave Vesperia, but the forgetful kritya as well. Ba'ul and I for ignoring the old ways. The Empire who assaulted her mountain so many years ago, and the Hunting Blades who murdered whatever entelexeia they could find. She's been building an army for over a decade to get her revenge, and you can expect a war any day now, Commandant."

"_Let's give her one_," came the rough rumble of Clint.

"_I wondered why the kritya are leaving Dahngrest," _Kaufman said next. "_It's an exodus. They started leaving their guilds three days ago." _

"Her first move. Any idea where they are going?" Flynn asked the communicator desperately.

"_No, but Tison has kept tabs on the rogue entelexeia. Looks like your murdering historian is holing up at Mt Temza, and what's the bet her army is there waiting for her,_" Clint replied.

"Back to the beginning," Judith said softly. "Mount Temza."

The quiet was an oppressive, introspective one. Into it, like the shaken leaves of a dead tree, the sound of scuffling could be heard. It took Karol some time to realise where it was coming from.  
Rita and Witcher were having the world's softest argument, fussing over a small notebook and elbowing each other for the right to use the pencil. Between them they managed to scribble a few lines of furious notes. Insouciant to their audience, Rita went over Witcher's calculations and he over hers.  
They had come to some sort of an agreement by the time Rita brought her fist down on the table.

"_Temza_!" she suddenly shouted, making everyone present jump. When all she got was blank, confused looks, she said, "Reverse the parameters! You know, altitude!"

"Real words, Rita," Raven reminded her.

She ruffled her hair in pure frustration, then jabbed a finger upwards at Brave Vesperia.

"There might be a slim chance I can stop _that _from breaking a continent in half and razing half of Terca Lumeries. But mana isn't strong enough, so I need _altitude."_

"We can patch in to the satellite if we're high enough!" Witcher clarified. "Reroute its descent, or slow it enough to lessen the impact. Temza is the tallest mountain we have, so the distance and output parameters can be reversed."

"_Impact_?" Flynn managed, horrified.

"You need to listen to me," Rita said slowly. "We've got about twelve hours before Brave Vesperia is too low in our atmosphere for me to do anything about it. That's not enough time to evacuate a city, let alone four. I need to get to Temza."

The explosion of conversation was deafening. Karol winced when the volume ramped up once Witcher and Rita began to argue in earnest. Estelle was one of the only silent ones, and she had both trembling hands folded on the table-top as if it was a dinner party and not a war summons. Her face was angled upwards, and it didn't take a genius to see that she was gazing up at Brave Vesperia.

There was a soft scrape, almost lost under the din.

Yuri sat down beside her and propped his elbows up on the tabletop, as much apart of her silence as Brave Vesperia itself. He never said a word as he stared balefully around the meeting. They barely touched, just a bump of their shoulders, but Estelle closed her eyes and swiftly took a breath as if he brought the air with him. There were tears on her lashes when she suddenly hung her head in a cascade of pink hair.

Yuri still didn't move, but the silence was theirs alone and Karol decided to leave them be.

He pushed himself away from the table and wandered closer to the Commandant despondently. He was shuffling past LeBlanc when he heard Sodia murmur,

"Sir, the ships can't make that trip in twelve hours."

"I know that," Flynn replied in a low voice. "But we have to find a way."

"Even a skipper will only be as quick as the ocean is long. How can anyone cross Desier in that time?"

"I know."

"We should evacuate instead."

"Where is safe that entire cities could reach in twelve hours?"

"Commandant, they're talking about hundreds of thousands of people..."

"I know, but..."

For the barest of moments, the air quivered and a breeze blew by. Curiously, Karol rolled his jaw to pop his weirdly blocked ears.

And that's when she spoke.

"Commandant?"

Her voice slipped through the noise as smoothly as silk, effortless and inexorable. Each head turned. Every conversation and argument died.

Judith had stood slowly as if something drastically heavy had been set upon her shoulders. Despite that, despite the struggle, she straightened with a beatific smile. Karol's heart flipped. The sight of it was too much, too pretty against the blushing skyscapes of sunset, too heartfelt.

Slowly, she lifted one hand to her collarbone in a delicate gesture.

A tear struck her glove, turning the white material grey as a tombstone.

"Could I trouble you for one of your ships?" she asked with that lovely smile, glistening lines bright on her smooth cheeks. "Ba'ul says… he has just enough energy for one more journey. One more adventure. He can get us to Temza in time."

The breeze fluttered in again, bringing with it a weak, familiar rumble. Karol's breath shook when he drew it in.

"Yes," Flynn said hoarsely, brows a tortured knot over his eyes. "Yes, of course."

.  
_oOo_  
.

Sometime after that, Karol stood aside and let them move away in their private little worlds. The only one he truly saw was Judith, and she spoke softly to Flynn for a few moments to organise the replacement for the _Fiertia _before walking away. She did so with more grace and poise than she had right to have. He barely saw where the others went; at some point someone touched his shoulder and asked him if he wanted some food.  
He shrugged, not really sure himself.

By the time the last of the sun's fingers had slipped below the horizon, the only ones left on the plateau were the technicians and petty officers.

Karol, ignoring their curious looks, wandered over to the receiver left sitting on the metal table. He picked it up. The strange little mesh on its face gaped back, emotionless. Feeling like a fool but not know what else to do, Karol lifted it to his lips and whispered,

"Hello?"

He didn't realise how much he had wanted a response until he got none. Eyes swimming, he began to lower it back to the tabletop.

"_-arol?"_

"Nan?"

He'd shouted it, he realised. The technicians were eyeing him suspiciously now, and Karol cringed under their scrutiny. He pressed the receiver to his chest and, in an impulsive fit of childishness, crawled between the barrels to sit under the table.

Only when the soldiers had gone about their business did he lift the receiver back to his mouth.

"Nan?" he begged desperately.

"_Karol, what are you doing on the line?"_

"What are you doing on the line?" was all he could think to say.

"… _They left it on." _A pregnant pause, full of unspoken hope.

"Here too," he agreed, as guilty as she. "I… I just… I didn't know if you were there and…"

"_Not for long. I'll be heading out with the boss soon. We're going to try and make the trip."_

"Oh. Temza. So… I mean, I guess… you heard all that, huh?"

"… _I heard._"

Tears were leaking freely now, and Karol told himself they were only there because she couldn't see him. They were only there because she was with him, but not. He ran a wrist under his running nose as silently as he could.  
Not silently enough.

"… _K_-_Karol._"

He tried to laugh, but he sort of hiccupped instead.

"I'm really sorry, Nan."

"_Wha-?_ _D-Don't be! Sorry? W-Why would you be sorry for-"_

"It was your birthday yesterday. I really blew it."

The silence on the other end of the line was rife with shock. Still sniffling, Karol wondered if her present was where he left it, tucked into the bag that they'd pulled from the flooding Zaudé.

"Things have gotten pretty crazy," he mumbled. "P-Pretty crazy. I tried to get this done in time, but it got kinda complicated. And now... This is so messed up."

"… _B-but with everything going on, how did you remem-?"_

"I've been counting."

Another one of those stunned silences, punctuated only by his own pathetic sniffling. Karol stared down at the receiver clutched in his hands and tried to blink his eyes clear. Tried to imagine what it would be like if he was in Dahngrest and not here, huddled like a five-year-old under a table and crying into a piece of electronics.  
He wished with all his heart that he was.

"_Karol?"_

"Y-Yeah?"

"_Wait for me. __We- I'll be there as soon as I can. D-Don't get yourself hurt. Run away if you have to."_

Karol dipped his head until the receiver indented its cross-hatch into the skin of his forehead.

He hadn't known how much he'd wanted a response until he got one.

"O-Okay."

And even with everything changing and falling to pieces around him, Karol realised he wasn't quite as alone as he felt.  
They were all together in strife.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: ... For a recap chapter, that one certainly had a life of its own. I may have gone overboard. I feel like I should apologise to the entire cast.**

**On the bright side, we're on the final stretch towards the finale! And an extra large thank-you to the reviewers last chapter - those were some extremely kind words, and you've made me a very happy author.**


	21. The Chill

**21: The Chill**

.  
_oOo_  
.

People do a lot of strange things for love.

Sometimes they were little things. They could be as simple as an unexpected kiss, or as thankless as a well-deserved slap. Sometimes they were abstract things, larger than life gestures. World changing.  
Like pushing yourself to death for the sake of thousands of strangers.

The industrial deck to the _Esprit_, their replacement ship, was colder than the underside of a Zophier blade-drift. Raven accepted every shiver when he lifted the little ceramic cup and drank from it deeply. Out on the bowsprit for old times' sake, the rice wine was the only warm thing in the night. A deep rumble, slightly faded, reverberated through the metal ship and made Raven's bones creak.

"Nonono, I'm good. N-n-nothin' like a little bracin' sea air," he replied to Ba'ul, trying to pour himself another glass. His hand quaked and a lot of good saké sloshed over the edge and overboard. "…Ah, hell."

The giant entelexeia tried to sigh, one of those buoyant swells that were always so expressive, but the tethers holding the ship up creaked when the motion proved too much.

A flipper came down too fast, the other went rigid for a moment. They lost altitude in a slow lurch before Ba'ul shuddered and forced himself steady. There was a pattering of black over the starboard side. He had reopened one of his wounds.  
Raven gazed into the empty, starry night and felt ancient beyond words.

"Almost there, old son. You're doin' great," he said softly.

Ba'ul laboured brokenly on.

It was cold on that deck. It wasn't entirely the fault of the wind, or the time, or the height. Its fingers slid under the skin, through flesh and beyond bone to needle its way deeper still. Somewhere at the core of it all, the ache settled in and made itself at home. Raven wished it wasn't so familiar. Most everyone had been unprepared for it, and the silence on board the deck of the _Esprit _spoke volumes about the strength of the chill.

Mount Temza was still a corrugated jag against the stars, too distant to have shape beyond a tantalising silhouette. Never had a place been as far away as it was too close.

Ba'ul moaned softly to himself, tired already.

"Almost there," Raven said again, the only words of worth in the night.

People do a lot of strange things for love. Raven sat there, freezing himself stupid while the gentlest of their party burnt all he had left on one last mission.  
The saké ran dry. The last warm thing was gone, and all that was left was the wind.

"N-n-not t-too far now," Raven shivered bleakly. He tugged and pulled at his jacket in a futile attempt to make it mean something against the constant cutting airstream, but it was a lost cause. It was too thin, too light, barely there in his freezing, numb hands when he wrestled it as tightly around himself as he could.

"Are you alright?"

Raven barely managed to peer over his shoulder, unwilling to give up the shelter of his hunch. Judith was standing by the guardrail. Her fine eyebrows were raised in an echo of concern.

"Well if it isn't J-J-Judy," he managed with a toothy grin. "Ta what d-d-do I owe the p-pleasure?"

"Ba'ul said you were being stupid," she said, ignoring the chattering attempt at cheer. "… What do you think you're doing?"

"S-s-star- gazin'?" Raven offered.

Ba'ul rumbled low.

"He says to tell you you're being stupid."

"What's wrong with s-s-star-gazin'?"

Judith sighed and shook her head.

"I'm not sure what you hope to accomplish by freezing yourself to death," she said curtly. "Most everyone else is indoors. For you of all people to be out in this weather… I'm surprised at you, Raven."

"It's n-n-not so bad," Raven attempted, but an explosive sneeze nearly toppled him from his perch. He ran a sleeve under his nose and grinned sheepishly.

Judith's smooth smile didn't move an inch. It stayed there, tranquil, making her look as poised and calm as the dead-centre of a tempest. Too poised. Too calm. Raven couldn't help but stare. She eventually inclined her head at him curiously, and he gave a chuckle he didn't feel when he slid himself from the bowsprit.

It was all wrong. Judith's smile was as empty as a drained cup.

Raven paused once he was on deck to rub his freezing hands together. He used the opportunity to steal another glance at her, and he wondered where he had seen that hollow look before. It was the haunting kind of familiar, not pleasant enough to be nostalgic.  
It reminded him of darker days, a time of death and war and sacrifice and loss… and with Temza a serrated edge against the throat of the sky, it didn't take long for the images to align in his minds eye.

That easy smile tweaking her lips reminded him too much of Alexei. He'd seen those very eyes on Duke. Raven had seen great evil come and go in every guise, but the worst was the kind that slipped into the hearts of good people under the wing of tragedy.  
He stood there, icy hands a tangle of misgivings, wondering if she had any idea just what she looked like in that moment.

He wondered if she knew just how dangerous she was.

But Judith only smiled long after the silence grew oppressive, and she continued to watch him watch her.

"Do I have something on my face?" she eventually wondered.

_Just death,__ sweetheart._

It's funny how words weren't always enough. Raven didn't even bother trying to find the right ones; no amount of philosophy would make what was happening to Ba'ul right, and at the end of the day there was only the cold, harsh truth. And that would help no one.  
Judith finally grew weary of his scrutiny and she flapped a hand at him.

"I can take over from here. There'll be plenty of time for star-gazing once we're closer to Temza. I'll come gather everyone well before we get there. It's alright. Go thaw yourself out."

Raven gripped his sides against the cold and exhaled through chattering teeth.

"Alright, s-suit yours-self," he stuttered, then turned to leave.

He had managed three stiff steps towards the captain's cabin when Judith called out, "Raven?"

He turned reluctantly.

"Ba'ul says thank you," she offered calmly. Her hollow smile filled a little with concern when she added, "And he says that he hasn't seen much of Rita tonight. It's not important, not really, but… He's worried about her."

Raven shifted his arms for a better grip of his ribs, eyes sliding to the side pensively.

"Perhaps you could check up on her," Judith prompted.

Perhaps he would.

She turned away from him then, not in time to hide the shrewd glint in her eye, and Raven left her to it.

There was a lot to think about. Most of it was unsettling. He saw Karol off to starboard amongst some crates, and Yuri and Flynn were by the ladder down into the brig. Estelle passed him on her way to the bow, a vague ghost of her former self that didn't even meet his eyes. Soldiers bustled between them all silently, worker ants in a stirred farm. All with their own worries.

Raven blew unhappily on his hands as he passed a group of footmen, jumping when they saluted because he's _almost _forgotten the day's conclusion. He saluted back, if only to make them return to whatever it was they were doing before he passed them by. He still wasn't one-hundred percent sure why he agreed to Flynn's proposal. _'First Captain_' was a mouthful, for one. The role appeared to involve a lot more commanding and a lot less advising, for another. And thirdly… it felt altogether too much like a life. _His _life.

He hadn't had one of those for over a decade.

It wasn't his style. It wasn't in his nature to do anything other than nudge others in the right direction, let them be the heroes. A coward's role, maybe, but one he'd gotten good at. It's funny what twenty-four hours and the tough love of a pragmatist could do.  
Raven reached the bridge just in time for one last sneeze. He fumbled the door open with his numb hands and, still sniffling, stepped inside.

Warmth spilled out and folded him up. He stood there, adjusting to the light and quiet, trying not to feel better now that he had his back to the chill.

"Close the door!"

Bits of paper had been blown from the large desk at the back of the cabin. Beyond the stacks of equipment and books and boxes, a massive white-board had been propped on the captain's chair.

Rita had been busy.

"For the last time, your precious Commandant isn't here. Go look someplace else," she snapped without turning.

The mage was scribbling symbols and equations onto the white-board at an alarming rate, weirdly graceful when she swept a hand out to curve a line between formulae. Raven closed the door and, quietly so as to not disturb her, made his way across the room to the only space not covered in books. The armchair was well worn and comfortable. He settled into it with crossed legs, elbows on his knees as he studied the young mage.

It was impossible to tell if there was grief there. Rita worked so hard that she had filled the board up within moments; that done, she began to scrabble through the strata of books around the cabin, swearing softly to herself the whole time. Eventually she found what she was looking for and the mage begun to carry it towards the armchair.

She came to a halt when she realised it was occupied.

"Y-you," she blurted out, then turned a very pretty shade of pink. It was the first moment of real warmth all night and, Raven now knew, it was entirely his. Rita bristled at whatever expression settled across his face, then jabbed the corner of the thick book in his direction.

"What the hell are you doing here? That's my spot, Old Man. I'm working!"

Good to know some things would never change.

"Have a heart, Hun! I was sittin' up with Ba'ul and it was so cold out I might just die. Ya don't want me ta _die, _do ya?" Raven whined, sniffing dramatically for good measure. He'd added extra whine just to rile her up, but what flickered across her face in that instant wasn't anger.  
The flash of pain was brief, but Rita's knuckles remained white on her book long after she'd wrested the emotion from her face. The chill had made it into the cozy cabin after all.

"I haven't got time for… for whatever it is you're here for," she said in a harried, desperate voice. "I need to make this work. Give me my seat back."

Ba'ul had been right. Raven gave a heartfelt sigh.

They all had their own way of dealing with death and goodbyes. There was no right way, no easy, quick way. But it did seem like the only ones strong enough to use actual words were Estelle and Karol. Rita, for all her bluster, was doing her best for Ba'ul in her own way.  
She was making sure the sacrifice wouldn't go to waste.

Raven ignored her desperate motions for him to move and settled further in the plush arm-chair. Once comfortable, he then patted the couch cushion in the space between his folded legs. It took her a moment to catch his meaning. Rita's mouth worked wordlessly.

"You're kidding," she managed eventually. He smiled to reassure her. There was a delicate moment where she scratched nervously at the back of her neck before she warned, "… This… This is important. I have to work."

"I won't stop ya. You work, I keep warm. Sounds like a win-win situation ta me."

She hesitated again, blushing fully now.

"…Fine," she mumbled through an embarrassed pout. "But no distractions."

It was amazing what twenty-four hours could do to a man's life. Raven barely felt guilty at all when she dropped herself into the cradle of his folded legs. Even more surprising, there wasn't a scrap of shame when her back reclined against his chest.

He just felt warm.

"No speaking, either," Rita said bluntly. She propped her feet up on the table and opened her book up across her thighs. After half a moment of scanning, she took one of his hands, forced a finger straight and then pressed it to a line of text.  
Raven marked her spot while she fumbled her notebook and pencil from her jacket front.

"Glad ta help," he said dryly.

"I said no talking!" Rita snapped, then elbowed him in the spleen.

Yep. Nothing much had changed.

It wasn't the conventional kind of comfort for grief, but even Rita Mordio needed a little solace sometimes. And if he was entirely honest, Raven needed a little too. She was soft and warm and sinfully good against him. All he had to do to keep her there was to occasionally turn a page when her hands were occupied. All he had to do was shut up and sit still.  
Raven may have been blurring the rules a little by slipping an arm around her, but she simply huffed her acknowledgement as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As if sitting so comfortably in his lap was perfectly reasonable and not a mind-bending miracle. He wondered when she would realise that it wasn't ordinary at all.

He got his answer when, partway through the fourth chapter of _'Teletransitional Functions of Aer', _the door to the bridge opened and a roar of cold wind rushed in.

Paper tumbled off the table and desk. The lamplight flickered. The one dark porthole rattled its pane and Rita Mordio nearly leapt out of her skin. She would have leapt straight out of Raven's arms if he hadn't tightened his grip suddenly. Selfishly.

"Hey Rita, Flynn said you'd be in here. I was… just…"

Yuri had one hand on the door handle still, a black figure against a blacker night. The wind tugged and tossed his hair over an artfully blank face. He stood there, taking in the two sitting in the armchair with the most fashionable look of bemusement known to man. Rita couldn't have been more rigid in Raven's arms.

Yuri's mouth opened for half a second before he closed it again. He squinted for a moment, almost sure enough for sarcasm, then gave up.

"Riiiiiight," was all he offered. He shrugged with one shoulder and then tipped a head gently towards the open door. "So have you guys seen Estelle? She's not with the soldiers. Flynn will be pissed if she spends all night out on deck."

The name was enough to visibly shake Rita from her stall.

"Estelle? _I _haven't seen her, but… but when you find her, you should send her my way. I need to go ov-" Her plans were reduced to a muffled blur when Raven smothered her mouth with his spare hand.

"I think I saw the Princess over by the prow," he interrupted cheerfully. "Looked a bit lost ta me, come ta think of it. Probably better get her outta that blizzard before frostbite sets in."

Yuri had started staring at them openly again, one eyebrow lifted in a satirical arch. The pause was fractionally longer this time.

"Riiiiiight," he said again, this time managing an insolent smirk. He tossed a 'thanks' over his shoulder, then shut the door after himself and sealed the chill away once more. Rita jerked her face free of Raven's grip.

"What did you do that for? Estelle should go over this too!"

She was embarrassed. Rita wore it like rage, and she smouldered with it when Raven smiled.

"Maybe later," he chided. "Give 'em a just a bit of time. There may not be much of it left, and for those two? That little piece of drama has been a long time in comin'."

She shifted uncomfortably. "But this is important," Rita mumbled.

"C'mon, what'll an hour or two hurt? The eve of battle is the time for loved ones. Even a _genius mage _can respect a tradition like that."

She turned her head to peer at the closed door, eyes distant and thoughtful. Somewhere out there, Flynn was briefing and rebriefing his soldiers and lieutenants to calm their nerves. Karol was still hunkered down over that letter he insisted wasn't for Nan. Judith was spending what little time she had left with her nearest and dearest friend… and Raven watched the cogs turn as Rita assessed just where she was.  
She blushed wildly and snapped her eyes back to her book, shoulders hunched. Their little mage, genius and prodigy in everything but matters of the heart.

He hugged her tightly then, overcome.

"Alright, alright. I get it, an hour," Rita grumbled.

"Much obliged," he replied into her shoulder. He dared to steal a few more seconds of her time. The memories he'd been battling with all afternoon danced back through his thoughts, rising up like petals in the wind. Small things, like the sound of breath. Like trembling lips and wide eyes and small hands curled into tight fists. She had called him a coward. As usual, she had been right.

Raven nuzzled gently at her nape, breathing in deeply until his expanding chest fit flush against her shoulder blades. She went very still. The impasse was broken when he traced a line through the ends of her hair with his nose. His mouth brushed her skin so lightly he wondered if she felt it.

"I said… no distractions," Rita said stiffly.

"… Define distraction," Raven mumbled, kissing the spot on her neck again. He nearly bit his tongue off when she elbowed him in the gut.

"_That_."

"Right, right. My bad," Raven croaked.

It was worth a try. He fell back with a sigh, not at all surprised.

But Rita always had a way of defying expectation. It wasn't quick, but by the time she had circled her first paragraph, she had reclined back against him and surprised him anyway. Sometime during the fifth chapter, she brought her cheek to rest against the side of his neck. After the first page of notes, she pulled his other arm around her like a crotchety old woman would tug on a blanket.

It wasn't entirely what he had in mind, but it was good. And for the first time in a long time, it was his.

.  
_oOo_  
.

The door closed on Yuri's last excuse, locking it away with the warmth and light and the strangeness.

He'd been hoping for a distraction. He'd been counting on a reason to stick around and stay out of the chill for just a little longer, but three was definitely a crowd. Who'd have thought.

Yuri tried once more to wrap his head around that little revelation. Once again, he dismissed it with a shrug. Whatever it meant, Raven and Rita weren't interested in keeping him entertained, so that ended his plan to waste time in the bridge.

Repede was sitting by a barrel of engine oil with his shoulders hunched against the chill, fur rippling in constant, miniature waves. The smoke from his pipe was stretched tenuously long in the wind and he glared at the stream grumpily. Not even Flynn had been able to get more than an ear-flick from him.  
When the canine noticed the curious stare levelled on him, he rumbled out the beginnings of a growl before turning his head aside. Yuri still hadn't figured out what he'd done wrong to deserve the silent treatment.

Karol was just as much of a lost cause. Yuri had found him wedged between a few empty crates off to starboard, hunched over some paper that he had plastered to his knees to keep from being blown away. He had declined every offer for a warm-up spar, and he simply didn't reply when Yuri had tried to bait him with a comment about the _'Dear Nan' _he'd seen scrawled on the top of the letter.

Judith and Ba'ul were strictly off limits.

At that point, the bad, brooding thoughts began to out number his unoccupied friends, and Yuri had been desperate. Flynn wasn't impressed; he had shoved his childhood friend out of the door to the cargo hold before he'd fully gotten a foot through it.

"_I'm not the one you should be talking to!" _the Commandant had said angrily. _"Honestly, Yuri! I can't watch your jeopardise the one good thing in your life because of… what? Pride? Just talk to her, already!"_

It didn't feel like pride.

Yuri prised his fingers from the bridge door one at a time, drawing the moment out, clinging to that final distraction before he had no other options. Repede growled again, frustrated.

The night had stretched like a yawn over the world, dark from horizon to horizon. It had chased everyone but a select few below deck, and it felt like a ghost ship when Yuri made his way across it. Estelle was right where Raven had said she would be, standing by one of the canons like the last living thing in the world.

She was humming to the wind, a nostalgic tune that Yuri almost recognised, and she didn't even falter when he came to stand beside her.

He stared out over the inky view with both elbows propped up on the railing and let her sing.

Standing there, with nothing more than a melody to break the ice, it was hard not to notice all the little differences. Yuri had been avoiding them all night. It was impossible to ignore them now: the metal was colder than the wood of the _Fiertia_, the deck broader, the layout different. Even the sound of it was tortured and impersonal. Not at all the familiar and settled creaks of their old ship.

Estelle's song was as smooth as the _Fiertia's _flight had once been. It was a terrifying, gut-clenching contrast to feel the _Esprit _lurch and sway underneath Ba'ul's unstable efforts. The danger wasn't the problem; Yuri couldn't have cared less if the ship plummeted into the ocean… but having to ride each dip and shudder of Ba'ul's agony was wrong.  
It wasn't how he wanted to say goodbye to a friend.

The melody waned. One last note lingered in the cold like a memory before it was swept away.

"Nice tune," Yuri managed, chilled to the core.

"My mother's favourite," Estelle replied. "I'm really not doing it much justice. I don't even know how it ends. She would sing it whenever I was sick or woken by nightmares, something to make me feel strong like my favourite heroes from the storybooks. I always fell asleep before she finished… But I wanted to sing what I could for Ba'ul."

She was smiling. Yuri turned his head slowly, drinking in every moonlit line of her, seeing her for the first time. He was reminded why he had been avoiding her all night. She _did _look strong, smiling through her hurt when she turned her face up to Ba'ul's silhouette above.

"Back then I thought I knew what a hero was, having read so many books. I guess children can't really understand what _true _strength and bravery is."

Yuri shivered.

Flynn was wrong. It wasn't pride at all.

She had gotten so strong. She was nothing like the girl that had stepped out of the castle for the first time all those years ago. Estelle had always needed that little bit of help. Nothing much, just an occasional helping hand, a little time, some encouragement… just enough space to be herself. Just enough room to grow. And Yuri had given it to her because no one else would. All those rules and shields and plans the empire had built around her to protect her from the outside world had done the opposite.  
And Yuri had always known that with a little freedom, she would be amazing.

He wondered now just when it was that she had outgrown him.

"It's all so unfair," she said, then delicately brushed a few tears from her cheeks when she finally turned his way. "And I wish I could do… more…"

He wondered when it was that she had stopped needing him.

"Yuri?"

It had been something only he could do for her. Yuri had more faults and flaws than he could count, but none of them mattered when no-one else in the world had been able to give her the trust and belief that she needed. If Flynn was a little less strict and protective, he might have been better matched for her. He shone as brightly as she did, after all.

Yuri didn't shine. He was just a punk from the Lower Quarter with dirt on his hands, too stubborn to change his ways like Flynn had. And as time went on, the dirt on his hands had become blood. It hadn't mattered at the time... But what did a murderer have to offer someone like Estelle? Now that she rescued herself and managed her own worries and made her own choices, where did that leave him?

What did that make him?

"Useless," Yuri managed, grinning at the harsh truth of it.

Estelle's white glove brushed his cheek, fingers slipping through his hair in a caress that made him shiver.

"Are you alright?" she murmured, mint-green eyes wide and kind and concerned.

Yuri pulled her against his chest with a short tug, arms around her and tightening. She didn't resist. Even with her chin over his shoulder, even with her body pressed so closely to his… it wasn't enough, and he crushed her to him desperately.  
What did he have left to offer her? He'd been prepared to die just to protect her, but she didn't even need that.

Estelle made a gentle shushing sound in his ear, hands stroking his back gently. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and clenched his teeth.

"Please Yuri, what's wrong?" she asked him, shifting just so.

He'd never had the words for this sort of thing.

Yuri pulled back slightly, her hair tickling his ear, their cheeks a lingering brush of skin.

"You're really something else, you know that?" he managed, smiling because that was the understatement of the decade. He hesitantly lifted a hand to run his fingers through her hair.

The swathes of pink were soft between his digits when he gently pinned her hair to the back of her head, clearing it away just long enough to press a kiss against the barest edge of her jaw. Her pulse was a tangible rhythm just below his lips. The wind tried to slip between them, invading the warmth that she'd kindled, but Yuri let her hair fall and suddenly there was nothing but the softness of her skin and the faint smell of sakura blossoms. He shifted the kiss to her earlobe. Her slow breath was hot against the inside of his wrist when he took her chin with his other hand. Half a heartbeat later and he dared to turned her face.

He caught sight of her worried frown for the fraction of a second before their lips met. Estelle's hands contracted into fists around his tunic at his back. She shivered slightly, but that might have been the wind. Yuri's arm tightened possessively.

Her mouth moved over his sweetly, with all the care and concern she showed in everything she did. It made the ache in his chest so intense that it hurt, and his fingers tightened over the back of her neck roughly. Too rough; she gasped against his teeth.

Somewhere in Yuri's head, he pulled back before he could frighten her. Somewhere in Yuri's head, he had all the right words to use to tell her just how much she meant to him.

Instead, he growled against her lips and crushed her in the loop of his arms as possessively as a thief did a stolen treasure.

She tasted like strawberries when his shifting lips parted hers. The shock of sensation made every nerve burn. He felt drunk when, with a muffled sound of surprise, she locked her arms around his neck for balance against his assault. She did it for support, overpowered, but by the time their kiss had slipped into something deeper, Yuri realised with a weak wobble that the line between who was supporting who had become dangerously blurred. She was stronger than he was. Again.

And he still didn't have the words to use.

"Dammit," he gasped suddenly, pulling away with a wince. Estelle panted against the corner of his mouth, eyes wide with shock.

"Yuri," she whispered. "Please tell me what's wrong."

_You're too good for me._

Yuri's lungs were working like a bellows, and even if he somehow had the courage to say it aloud, he didn't have the breath. He snarled with disgust at himself and dropped his forehead to her shoulder.

Estelle sighed. Her arms were gentle when they repositioned around his torso, and she gave him a warm squeeze.

"Alright, you don't have to say anything. But I'm right here. You can tell me anything, Yuri, I don't mind."

Yuri stared sightlessly over her shoulder while she gave him the comfort he should have been giving her. The woman in his arms gave him a swift kiss on the cheek, then buried her face in his neck. Patient and forgiving to the last.

"I'm so gutless," he muttered. That made Estelle pause, and he felt more than saw the careful inclination of her head. The wind was cold when it sheered in across the deck like razor blades.

It took her some time to respond, but when she did, he felt her voice more than heard it.

"… Hmm. Would you like to hear the song again?" she wondered.

Yuri blinked, shocked. He couldn't help but chuckle.

She was going to continue to grow. That was a given, and maybe his new job wasn't guiding her anymore. Maybe it was simply keeping up with her.

"Yeah," Yuri replied, holding her closer. "I think I do."

And Estelle sang the cold night away with that nostalgic melody, the one about bravery, the one with no end.

.  
_oOo_  
.

They reached Mount Temza at dawn, lower in the sky than intended.

The mountain filled the sky. The surrounding land was as pocked and cratered as the moon, the gaping wound in the mountain's side a glaring eye. The view swayed and swung over the guardrail.

Ba'ul's efforts were so laboured now that the morning was noisy with it. His breath had once sounded exactly like the wind, as a part of the sky as the clouds or rain or birds, just another facet of the experience of flight. Now, on this morning, it groaned and rattled in the quiet dawn. Every wheezing rumble made the entire ship quiver.

He bled almost constantly now, in great rivulets that pattered off the ends of his flippers with each erratic stroke.

Judith stood on the very end of the prow, her hand clasped to her elbows and her back straight. No-one dared approach her. No one dared speak.

Down below, you could see the tiny figures of people dotting the earth, moving through the scarred countryside and towards the mountain. It was impossible to tell if they were Tison's hunting party or Elis' converts. Whoever they were, the figures shrunk a little when the ship surged upwards in one final rise.

The mountain was right in front of them.

The surge was one last effort. Ba'ul pushed them just a little higher and then let out a tortured moan, forcing Judith's eyes close.

The mountain's hole stared at them unsympathetically.

"Thank you, my friend," Judith said, tears dripping from her chin.

The moment when the _Esprit _went from flying to falling was a surreal one. Gracefully, as if they rode the swell of a giant wave, the entelexeia and ship glided for one beautiful moment before the wind picked up. Gravity slid up and squeezed.

The ship tipped forward and began to pick up speed, the sky disappearing underneath Ba'ul's suddenly flaccid silhouette. Someone shouted out to hold on. The horizon turned into the ground. For one horrible moment, there was nothing but wind and shaking and a blur of mountain on either side. Over the guardrails, the uneven earth heaved up to meet them.

Ba'ul gave one final jerk, one flipper carving downwards to meet the earth prematurely, the other lifting high. The twist pushed the ship out from under the entelexeia's shadow just before the hull touched the racing ground.

The metal of the ship and all of its bearings screamed when the burnt bedrock struck it, the vessel twisting against its tethers as Ba'ul shouldered into the earth, gouging a deep groove into Temza's base. They struck the mountain side together, flinging free a few soldiers who had foolishly let go. The momentum was too strong and they cut up the incline and cliffs violently, churning up rock. Inertia kicked in and began to slow them.

The dust and dirt and rock from the impact fell down in a shroud, cloaking the last grinding yard of ascent.

The only sound was the groan of bent metal. The only movement was the dislodged rocks of the mountainside.

The _Esprit _had landed.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: Yeesh, this is one of those chapters that desperately needed to be written in one go... and wasn't. But three weeks of no updates made me very antsy, and it's time to move on. I'm not happy with it, but for some reason I'm finding it hard to get a clear view of this chapter. I'll let you guys decide.**

**Anyhue, thank you everyone still reading! I'll do my best to tackle the end of this fic in the most fitting way possible!**


	22. Promises Made for Keeping

**22: Promises Made for Keeping**

.  
_oOo_  
.

The ground moved.

It was a slurry of rocks and dust and silt and blood, slipping away beneath the soles like sand in a powerful rip tide. It looked like water in the haze. The dust cloud was so thick that it fell like endless layers of curtain over the light. The sudden calm after the crash felt fake, like time had snapped and everything after was no more than an idea. Yuri choked on it, wheezing the fine dust from his lungs as he skated across the shifting ground in awkward, stumbling lopes.

It wasn't over.

"Dammit!" he cursed. Somewhere behind him Flynn shouted his name.

Judith was just up ahead, standing there as if she were admiring the view, earth up to her ankles and heedless of how it streamed past her in a dry river. She hadn't moved from that spot since she'd dropped down from the beached _Esprit. _Yuri shouldered past her with an angry, frustrated jostle.

There was always a choice. There were always options.

The ship groaned behind them as if it was a dying animal, sliding slowly and inexorably back down the mountainside. Soldiers still scrambled out of it. They flowed out in a human chain, helping one another down from the railings to the shifting rock below. Up ahead, barely there in the haze, Ba'ul's unmoving bulk cut a bleak horizon out against the grey sky.

It wasn't over.

"Don't just stand there, do something!" Yuri snapped over his shoulder, slithering that little bit further until he found what he was looking for. The tethers were thicker than they had been for the lightweight _Fiertia. _The rope had been woven with metal cord to strengthen it; it rose and fell from the flowing earth like the coils of a sea-serpent. Yuri grabbed the closest arch of it and hauled upwards.

It was too heavy, the ground flow too strong.

The _Esprit _continued to skid down the hill by creeping inches.

"Yuri…"

"C'mon, c'mon," Yuri hissed through his teeth, straining with all his might.

"Stop, Yuri," Flynn said, closer again.

The metal bracket came free of the dry landslide in a pattering of grit. There was a latch to break it away from the slowly sliding ship, and if he could just reach it… Yuri grappled the bulky thing under arm to find it.

And Judith just stood there, unmoving.

"Help me get them off him!"

"Yuri!" Flynn tried again. He grabbed an elbow roughly.

"It's not over!" Yuri burst out and tore himself free. He shot Flynn a glare before heaving at the tether again. "I'm not done yet."

There was always another option. You just had to try hard enough. Yuri pulled at the heavy length of rope and iron until everything hurt. It was one of sixteen, but he would just have to unlink them all.

The unstable ground beneath his heels shifted; with a strange little lurch, Yuri tried to brace for the inevitable drop. He needn't have bothered. The tether stayed upright, and Yuri nearly fell over from the lack of resistance. One white glove tugged and pulled at the metal, fumbling blindly at the mechanism in search of the release clasp. Yuri watched the weak, unseeing attempts for a moment before lifting his eyes. Estelle hefted her end of the cable and continued to quest out the lock.  
She couldn't see for the tears.

Watching her grope and bumble her way over the link was like a swift blow to the stomach. She tried, but the methodical way she went about it was all wrong. Slow and steady, not desperate at all. She had her lower lip pressed down beneath her teeth and tears streaked her face in great shining lines. Her efforts were gentle. The motions were resigned. She wasn't tugging at the release clasp for _Ba'ul_.

It had all happened so fast.

The catch sprung up with a metallic _click _and the bracket slid apart. Yuri watched it in disbelief as Estelle lowered her end of it slowly, sniffling, to the shifting dirt. It was swallowed up and forgotten in a handful of unreal seconds.

There hadn't been any time to think about it.

Estelle made a small noise, almost a sob, and she ran the back of her glove under her running nose because her tears seemed to be everywhere. Yuri stared at her, suddenly not wanting to let her ache become his own, fighting it uselessly as time began to slide inexorably back into motion.

Everything crept back in. Ba'ul's wet, torn breathing, that final ear-popping surge, Judith's face before everything shut down within her, the crash as a streaked blur of shouting and panic…

The other end of the tether fell to the landslide with a _whud, _no longer important.

Yuri didn't know what to do next.

Estelle came forward in a timid hug; the swordsman barely felt it as he stood there like a half-finished statue, more confused than sympathetic when she buried her face in his chest and cried. He barely remembered to lift his arms to hold her.

The _Esprit _was turning gently as it slid down the slope, the only source of sound in the morning. Flynn was to their left and struggling with a scowl. Karol wasn't so far away either; he had stopped in his tracks to watch the felled ship with deep lines etched across his forehead, ones that made him look older than he was. He looked as bewildered as Yuri felt.  
Raven saw it too. The ex-spy's shoulders dropped when he waded over to drop a hand on Karol's head sympathetically, and he glanced around the party with a heavy, tired look. Yuri jerked his gaze away when their eyes met, not liking the depth or weight there.

And all Yuri could think was, '_Not like this'._

"Well if it isn't Cry Baby Karol!"

The figures emerging from the haze did so slowly, clamouring awkwardly over the twisting tethers and gliding gracelessly on the rock. Eventually one broke away from the rest and stepped from the dust cloud into clarity. Tison slid effortlessly over the unstable ground, his sandals as light on the dust as if he were skating on ice. He had his hood pushed back and his yellow eyes were bright like amber in the gloom.

Karol just stared at him, not crying at all.

"Who died and gave _you _the long face, pip-squeak?" the hunter asked next with a wolfish grin. Estelle sucked in a breath. Yuri felt his jaw knot.

"Y-You must be Tison," Flynn burst out, loud enough to make everyone jump. He looked harried and overworked when he pushed past Yuri and Estelle to reach the newcomer, but for all the discomfort, there was control in the way he slid himself tactfully between Karol and Tison. Dutiful as always. Protective to the last.

"Yeah, s'me. And who the hell are you?" Tison wondered in an insolent drawl, hands suddenly at his hips. Flynn stopped dead in his tracks, frozen in affront.

"Uh, boss?" one of the hunting party managed, finally catching up.

"What?"

"I-I think that's… y'know, that _Commandant _guy."

Tison made a noise part amused, part disbelieving and wholly disrespectful when he ran his eyes up and down the imperial figure before him. It made Flynn's eyebrow twitch. But the soldiers had began to push their way through the haze and towards the main group, and it was the ferocious look on Sodia's face when she fell in behind her Commandant that ended up convincing the guild member.

"Huh," was all Tison conceded. "… Well, the Big Man did say you'd be here. Alright, you got a plan Blondey, or d'you just intend on getting in our way?"

Flynn bowed stiffly.

"That depends," he said in a clipped manner. Over his shoulder, he called out, "Witcher?"

There was only the barest of pauses.

"We're not high enough, sir."

Witcher looked disoriented when he stood from his crouch next to Rita. They had knelt by one of the larger rocks unmoved by the landslide and had placed a complex looking piece of machinery on it. It was whirring away as it spun glowing discs of mana from a spire on its middle. The mage pushed his glasses up his nose (one lens was a spider-web of cracked glass) and shook his head dolefully.  
Rita didn't look nearly as helpless.

"Judging from these readings, the town further up the mountain will be the best bet," she said sharply. "We have to move."

She was already shutting the contraption down and packing it up. Over her shoulder, Temza continued to rise into the dust cloud like a slumbering beast.

"There isn't time to explain," Flynn apologised to Tison, "but you must trust me when I say we need to get these technicians safely up the mountain. From what Clint informed me… this may prove harder than it sounds."

The guild hunter used a black painted nail to scratch at the side of his equine nose. "Yeah," he said, "you got a whole lotta kritya comin' out of Desier now. We pulled ahead this morning, but this place is gonna get real crowded, real quick."

"Any sight of the entelexeia?" Flynn asked next.

"The monster?" Tison wondered, causing the first movement from Judith since the crash. She turned her head sharply. "We lost it in the dust. It was sitting over the valley before you came crashin' in."

Yuri only half listened to their conversation.  
It was a quick exchange of facts that he couldn't find within himself to care about. To his right, Rita had shouldered a backpack with her contraption stuffed in it and she made her way over to them with her eyes levelled resolutely at her feet. She looked better than anyone else did, but she still refused to look up, Yuri realised.  
She came to a halt very nearby, uncaring that her friends were holding one another close.

There was a sullen comfort in that weird bubble of silence. Karol was drawn to it like a moth to flame; he slipped from Raven's grasp and shuffled over with a haunted, uncomfortable expression on his face. He looked so lost and miserable that Estelle finally let go of Yuri to turn and engulf their youngest companion instead. He gratefully pressed his face into her, disappearing under her pity.  
Yuri tried not to hear his first shaking sob, and Rita was running out of places to avert her eyes.

_Not like this, _he thought again, then wondered vaguely how it _should _have happened.

Eventually the dust began to thin in gradual layers, revealing first the corrupted glow of Vesperia, then finally the full outline of Ba'ul's still form. Yuri breathed out and the confusion went with the last of his dusty breath.

The leather straps of his sword creaked torturously in his furious grip.

"We should move," he heard himself say, coldly. The last person in the world he expected to reply did so.

"There's an old path that skirts a crater to the east. If we follow it, we should reach the pilgrim's staircase up the mountain," Sodia mumbled. She sheathed her sword with a metallic _shink_, eyes averted from the group she stood beside and face white as bone. Yuri didn't want her anywhere near him in that moment, and there was something satisfying about the fact that she clearly knew that. Her expression was taut with discomfort and guilt. Witcher didn't notice; he was too busy trying to polish his half-shattered glasses with a dirty handkerchief and shaking hands.

Both lieutenants rallied and snapped to attention when Flynn finally made his way over.

"Alright, I'll lead the escort team up the mountain," he announced to them all firmly. He gave Yuri a warning look and added, "We stick together. No one does anything rash. Our first and only priority is to get Rita and Witcher to the summit."

He wasn't even _trying _to hide who the order was directed at. Yuri's eyes slid from his friend's pinning look and settled somewhere past his ear. The hand on his sword strap tightened again.

The silence became cold and Flynn's eyes narrowed. "… Do I make myself clear?"

And Judith just stood there, a frozen monument to her fallen friend. Yuri nodded once, but the gesture wasn't for the Commandant at all. It was a promise to her, and he intended on keeping it.

"Sir, I should stay behind and help the defensive blockade." Sodia had said it so softly that Yuri knew she hadn't wanted anyone to hear the plea in her voice. He heard it loud and clear. Flynn was as oblivious as ever.

"I'll need you with me, Lieutenant," he replied sternly. "Between the soldiers and Hunting Blades, there's more than enough here to hold off the kritya. Don't forget that the real enemy is probably further up the mountain."

"S-Sir. Yessir."

She fell back in acquiesce and cast the looming mountain a miserable look. There wasn't enough room in Yuri's chest for sympathy. It was filled with his unspoken promise to Judith.

"Alright, so here is how we'll divide our forces," Flynn began in a voice full of authority.

And they listened to him, too beaten and frazzled to think for themselves.

It was a simple plan, one born out of necessity and haste. Of all the men and women that had flooded the crash site, Flynn announced that only a small task force would go on to try and reach the summit. It was a tiny group in comparison to the combined forces of the soldiers and guild hunters, but it was made up of Yuri's comrades and Flynn's two lieutenants_.  
_More the enough to counter the Geraios. Few enough to move swiftly through the narrow mountain passes.

Flynn's grave confidence was a contagious thing. Estelle brushed the last lingering wetness from her face and shared his dutiful frown. Rita nodded at every point and finally lifted her eyes. Karol blinked the confusion from his, and Yuri steadily fuelled his vengeance with stolen measures of the Commandant's determination.

Tison was unmoved by it. He opted to stay behind, adamant to have another shot at Izuna and, if all went well, hopefully dropping the entelexeia from the playing field entirely. He grinned at the notion with no small amount of relish.

In complete contrast, Raven grimaced unhappily when he was ordered to hold position and lead the defensive unit.

Rita opened her mouth instantly to object, but Karol was quicker and louder.

"Y-You're staying behind?" he burst out desperately, horrified. Yuri didn't find his expression of dread all that surprising; the anxious jumble on Rita's face made her look like a different person entirely. The mage began to speak, choked on her attempt and then simmered, silent and red-faced. Raven winced at the sight of it.

"But why?" Estelle asked no-one in particular, a feeble smile frozen on her lips.

"Someone's gotta keep this shaky alliance intact, right Commandant?" Raven muttered fatalistically. "And you'll be hard pressed ta find someone more familiar with this dust bin of a battlefield than me."

"I'm sorry," Flynn said in his first moment of doubt. He eventually received an indifferent shrug.

"Nah, makes sense. And I'll just catch up as soon as we get it sorted... Sound good ta you, Cap'n?"

And while Karol sniffled unhappily and nodded at the loose turf, Rita gripped her middle in a ferocious one-armed crush and shot the archer a laden glare. Yuri wondered if she would say anything in front of so many.

She might not have, if this were any other time. But grief was as thick in the air as the dust, and with Raven watching her patiently and hopefully for a response, eventually the mage was forced to wrangle all of that turmoil into a few stark words. Her white knuckles said that it cost her dearly.

"… Don't mess this up. And… And don't you _dare _die," she ground out thickly, voice cracking. Raven's expression softened and he ran a finger over his chest in two swift motions.

"Cross my heart, darlin'," he replied quietly, and that was that.

Of Judith, no one dared decide anything.

She ignored the pointed silence. Eventually Raven offered to keep an eye on her with a wave of his hand, a gesture that was intended to stop the entire party from staring at her. She still hadn't moved, and Yuri realised that she probably wouldn't for quite some time. And they didn't have the time to wait.

"Alright, you know the plan," Flynn announced sternly. "Fall out!"

The party began to move. Yuri lingered dubiously for a second, wanting inexplicably to see Judith's face, wanting belatedly to give Raven those few parting words he deserved, wanting even more to forget all of that and leave. The urge to selfishly to slip free of his friends and do something with the weight in his chest was stronger than he expected.

Yuri wanted to kill Elis and be done with it all. He wanted the end of her life to be the end of all this disaster, and the need for that was so strong it pushed out against his ribs and made every breath ache.

He wondered what Estelle would think if she knew about his promise to Judy.

She slipped an arm through the crook of his. Her eyes were red and swollen and every streaked expanse of skin was dirty now because the dust had settled. But she gave his arm a squeeze, gentle and fortifying, and Yuri found himself being tugged gently after the others.

He let himself be led. To his right, he found himself following the sloping, unmoving outline of Ba'ul's body against the hazy morning sky.

And the swordsman realised that even if Estelle couldn't forgive him, or understand it, or consent to it, he would make the same damn decision all over again. It didn't matter who he promised it to… Yuri simply swore that he'd end this the only way he knew how.

Elis of the Geraios was going to die. And in that moment, for the first time ever, he didn't give a damn whether it was for justice or revenge.

.  
_oOo_  
.

"Hang in there," Raven said softly to his distant friends. He watched them disappear amongst the rocks and spires, swallowed up by the mountain as if they had never existed. It might have been the echoes of the last time he'd fought on these hills, but it was almost impossible to trust in them.  
Temza's cold shadow was a reminder of all that had been lost here, of what _could _be lost. Every old scar on the earth was potential. Each rusty old weapon and hint of bone in the dirt was a prediction.

There was a whine down at knee height.

"Well if it isn't the Pooch," Raven mumbled, peering down at Repede. The dog stared back with an unimpressed look, head turned to the side so that all Raven could see was one judgemental eye. The archer grinned and knitted his fingers behind his head. "Yeaaah, you're right. There'll be plenty of time for broodin' when I'm dead."

Repede snorted his disdain at that and, rising to his paws, he huffed out a short cloud of pipe smoke before he trotted his way over to Judith. It was sobering to watch; the dog meandered in a subtle, indirect curve into the very space around the krityan that the others hadn't dare breach. Silently, patiently, he sat down on the dirt next to her and waited.

Raven touched the blast heart he'd made his promise on, then winced when it gave a crackling twinge that touched electricity to his finger tips. He rubbed the spark free and turned away from the pair.

The platoon was waiting en masse to be organised and directed. It still felt weird that the expectant stares were levelled on _him. _Tison didn't help by yawning wide and asking through it, "So what's the plan, boss?"

_Don't mess this up. __And don't you dare die._

Rita had figured out the basics. Easy enough to remember, and all Raven had to do was fill in the blanks.

After all, he'd promised. It wasn't something he normally did, because promises were traitorous things, as good as a weakness or a leash, just another way to betray loved ones. But she had been standing there with a look on her face that had broken his artificial heart and left him aching with the need to hold her.

But he couldn't, so he had promised to get this right and survive.

Here, right now, the jumble of men and women looked more like a crowd of spectators than a military force. Raven ran his eyes over them all and tried to see the bright side. They were mingling at least – that was more than he expected – and they were as confused as they were eager. They should probably have been more frightened, but there hadn't been a real, sword-in-gut battle for the factions since the Great War. They were allowed their naiveté.

Raven smiled. He could almost see himself in their ranks, impatiently waiting for Captain Casey to start the charge. She had been a natural leader, completely untouchable and unstoppable when she'd stood upon a boulder to address her men. Raven remembered being distracted by her figure stencilled against the blue sky. He remembered her long chocolate hair tangling in the wind.

She and all of her men had lost their lives here, crushed and lost into a land that not even time would touch. He recalled what had killed them, from the entelexeia to the canyons, split-levels and landslides.

With older eyes, he now saw them as barricades, high-ground and bottlenecks, all for the taking.

Raven came back to the present with a small smile.

And, compelled by a woman he thought of less and less, he reached up and hooked a few fingers in the leather strap that bound his hair. It came free smoothly, willingly.  
The cascade was a strange juxtaposition of Schwann's tickling length and Raven's shifting chaos. Somewhere between the two was something new, and Tison picked at his teeth, unimpressed, when Raven pushed the worst of it from his eyes and took a step forward.

"Mornin' men," he said cheerfully, hands shoved deep in his pockets as the wind toyed with his free hair. "Th'name's Raven, and I'll be your First Captain for this evenin'. Now we don't have much time, so yer gonna have ta listen real close. Here's how this is gonna go down…"

.  
_oOo_  
.

Sometimes you didn't truly know something was there until it was gone. Estelle had never felt that truth more keenly than she did now.

She had spent all night and morning coming to terms with Ba'ul. She was still aching every time that she looked up; the colours and clouds and stars were all his, things that she would forever associate with their fallen comrade. She wondered for how long she would look at the sky and see a hole instead.

Unconsciously, she tightened her grip over the fingers curled around hers. The tiny path that hugged the first sharp rise of mountain was treacherous with a harrowing drop off one side. Yuri had caught her hand in his after her soft noise of dismay. He glanced at her now, cursorily, then turned his face back to the path.

His expression was neutral. His eyes were closed off from her.

It was a stark contrast to the state he'd been in on deck of the _Esprit. _Estelle hadn't understood what had been etched into the lines of his face last night at all. He wouldn't tell her, but Yuri had always spoken loudest through actions; he had held her like a drowning man would a buoy, kissed her as if it was the last time that he would. It had frightened her as much as thrilled her, and Estelle had eventually told herself that it was grief, all twisted up because he couldn't cry as easily as she did.

But then the _Esprit _had crashed and now they were all clamouring up the mountain side as quickly as possible. And when they had encountered their first road-block, he had turned to help her over the rubble and she had seen nothing on his face at all.

Sometimes you didn't know something was there until it was gone.

_Doubt _had shadowed his eyes last night. It was pure doubt that had skewed the normally smooth line of his brow and twisted his lips even as they pressed down on hers.

Estelle didn't know what worried her more, that her unruffable Yuri had been so shaken, or that there was none of it left now.

It bothered her greatly.

Estelle stole shy glances at him as they progressed. She tried to examine his face when he hoisted her up a split level of grey rock, and she had lingered at his side when he had steadied her landing after a daring jump over a crevasse. She even pretended to trip once just to bring him close again, hoping to catch his eye.

It didn't work. He stared ahead as resolutely as Flynn, looking very much like the dark-side of the moon to the Commandant's sun.

Estelle was gnawing worriedly at her lower lip when Flynn suddenly lifted a hand and the small party came to a halt. The boulder they had just squeezed past had been hiding their path from view. Now past it, Estelle could see that the road forked to flank the deep crevasse that split through the mountain side in both directions. There was a wooden bridge over it, the third and final option.

"Which way?" Flynn asked them, advancing to test a foot on the rickety overpass.

"L-Let me check," Sodia stammered, dropping her rucksack to the dirt. Rita stomped over the bridge impatiently, trying to follow the winding path beyond with her eyes. Karol trailed after her only partway; he peered down the drop beneath his feet and swallowed thickly.

Estelle hesitated. She watched Yuri swipe his sword scabbard impatiently at the tall grey grasses of the upper path. There was a worrying amount of venom in the way he did it, like beheading the thistles was some form of practice. His distracted trek took him partway up one path, then when he got too far, back past the junction and down the lower trail.  
Everyone watched him do it except Flynn, who frowned out over the view and refused to look.

"I-I have a map here somewhere," Sodia apologised in a rush, hauling out an oversized sheet of paper and peering between its folds. She stuffed it back quickly and reached for another.

Estelle clenched both hands to her chest in worry. She blinked when her grip hit something hard. Surreptitiously folding back the low collar of her outer dress, she made a small noise of surprise when she found her mother's memento tucked into the inner pocket. Someone must have found it on the _Fiertia _and restored it to her before the ship had been fully dismantled.

She stared at it, feeling the old loss mingle with the new one. She tugged it free to see it better.

The charm was twisting in the thin morning light when a flash of inspiration struck her.

Yuri was idly spinning his sword over his wrist when she made her way to him, and she had already taken the edge of his sleeve in hand before he was even aware she was there.

Slate eyes, almost lilac, stared down at her blankly.

"I have something for you," Estelle said breathlessly.

"… Something?" Yuri echoed, not quite all there. Impatient, she reached up and tugged at his collar until he took the hint and leant a little towards her. It was a poor effort. He had barely bent at the waist. Estelle puffed her cheeks out in frustration continued to tug until he took the hint and brought himself down to a reasonable height. The different shades of their hair meshed at the forehead, a curtain of colour that Estelle glanced past to meet his eye.

Successful, she pulled back with a weak smile. He must have been expecting something different; Yuri lingered over her for a handful of curious seconds before he straightened. It took him another moment on top of that to realise she's slipped something over his neck.

"Estelle, this is-"

"My mother's memento. I want you to wear it," she said earnestly. She flapped her hands at him the second his brows dropped from their surprised arch and into a frown. "J-just for today! Please, it would… it would mean the world to me if you would."

He wouldn't even touch it, she found. He lifted the charm on its leather strap instead, holding it aloft from his chest as if he was convinced it would break there.

"Listen, Estelle," he began in thinly patient tone. "Not that I don't appreciate the thought, but this isn't the time to be handing over precious mementos from your childhood."

Estelle gripped his wrists before he could lift it from his neck.

"When is the right time?" she asked earnestly. There was almost an emotion on his face. If she could just get at it…

"Not now. Not today."

"But why?"

"I'll probably… dirty it up or something. Keep it someplace safe."

"I-If you tuck it into your tunic, I'm sure that will do just fine."

"I'm not going to."

"Why not?"

"I told you, this isn't the time."

"It's just a charm, honestly! You won't even notice!"

"I don't get why all of a sudden… Seriously Estelle, don't you think _you _should be wearing your mother's memento?"

His voice was getting louder, sharper. Estelle refused to back down.

"I'm not wearing it because I don't need it. I would feel better if you did, so please!"

"Wait, so you think _I _need it? Why?" Yuri demanded instantly, a flash of pride and temper. It could have been hurtful, but at least his eyes were open and emotive. It might have been frightening, but it was a chance that filled Estelle's stomach with fire.  
She grasped the moment.  
She squeezed his wrists and her courage and plunged on.

"Because I love you, Yuri!"

He jerked back as if scalded, face going as red as a tomato.

"I really do! Honestly I do!"

Flynn had spun so abruptly that he had nearly fallen over.

"With all my heart! Don't you see?"

Sodia's bag slid from her hands and hit the ground with a _whud_, forgotten. Witcher fumbled numbly at the glasses that had slipped down his nose.

"I love you _so_ much, but I'm worried and I don't know what to do because everything is all wrong and I don't know how to fix it!"

Rita had clapped a hand over her face and Karol, open mouthed, jerked around until he was facing in the opposite direction. Estelle didn't care. She tugged again at Yuri's wrists and refused to look away from his perfectly round eyes. Her shake had dislodged the strap from his fingers; her charm fell lightly back to his chest.

"So please," Estelle managed, breathless. "Please just wear it."

The silence was so oppressive that Estelle could hear her own thundering heartbeat like the rhythm of a war drum. Surely Yuri could hear it too.

He was speechless. Not even his lips moved in an attempt for words; the only sign of life were his eyes, and they darted between hers for one tense moment before sliding self-consciously to the side and at their unintended audience.

There was a small explosion of movement as everyone attempted to do something that didn't involve staring and eavesdropping.

"Please," Estelle mumbled again, loosening her grip on his wrists.

Yuri ducked forward slowly then, a shift of shadow and long dark hair.

"Estelle." He sounded so shocked. How could he be shocked? Didn't he know? "Estelle, I-" he attempted again, voice low and hoarse.

She stared at her feet and waited. She waited for what felt like an eternity until Yuri finally lifted his hands to her shoulders. The tense series of knots down her spine began to ease immediately. At least his touch was gentle…

And then he shoved her, hard.

"Move!"

Estelle nearly fell over Sodia in her careening stumble; Flynn caught her before she could. They fell back together a step just as the massive spiked tail slammed across the path and gouged it away from the mountain side.

It slithered off and, as the dust settled, Yuri squeezed past the wreckage and raised his sword, scabbard already clattering across the stone.

There was a familiar lilting trill. Estelle heaved in a breath that froze in a cold lump within her lungs.

Izuna was perched on a jagged spire like a parrot on a branch. He was so close that his breath struck them in steady waves, smelling strange and spicy and unpleasant. Unsure which of them to look at, the entelexeia turned his head to the side and flitted one mirror-like eye between them.

The enormous creature warbled curiously, shifting.

"I'm not _interrupting _anything, am I?" Jerard wondered snidely, lounging quite comfortably between his brother's shoulder blades.

Flynn moved Estelle behind him in a subtle shift and drew his sword. In echo, Sodia had risen and done precisely the same thing; she guided the Princess even further back until Estelle's heels struck the first rickety wooden slat of the bridge.

Karol was waiting for her, hand already closing over her wrist to pull her further away.

"We won't let you harm the Princess," Flynn declared firmly, every ounce a knight in shining armour. Estelle tried not to stumble as she was tugged further from the lurking entelexeia and over to the opposite bank of rock. For one final time, Rita ushered her past and shoved her backpack with its precious cargo within into Estelle's arms. The mage hurriedly turned back and raised both hands up, ready to cast.

Jerard smiled pleasantly at the sight.

"You _did _get here fast," he said cheerfully. Somewhat more cruelly, he added, "How did you manage that? Don't tell me you _swam _the distance."

Yuri lowered his face dangerously.

"Well look who's here. Seriously, I feel like I should thank you," the swordsman said darkly. "You've just saved me the hassle of hunting your sorry ass down."  
Jerard appraised him thoughtfully.

"… Oh, I see. This is the part where I get to see _just _how frightening you can be," he said with a smirk.

"Something like that," Yuri replied with a wild grin.

"Yuri, wait!" Estelle burst out. He was over the other side of the bridge, but even she could see the darkness in his eyes. She was ignored, then shushed by Karol who started to push her further away from the ledge.

Izuna trilled happily to himself and stretched a neck out closer to the mountain path. Flynn and Sodia raised their weapons in unison, not moving back an inch. The creature was so close that its snuffling was tousling the hair on both soldiers' head.

Jerard ran a hand cajolingly over the pearly white scales of his brother's nape. He lifted it suddenly to signal a halt.

"Wait a second, first things first," he said abruptly. He fumbled in his ridiculously pompous jacket for a moment and then pulled out a strange little device. Estelle didn't recognise it in the least, but Karol and Yuri jerked in the very same instant. "I have my orders, you see. Let's plug up this leak," Jerard said.

"RUN!" Yuri shouted, too late. The krityan man pulled the trigger.

The explosion swallowed the bridge in white. It knocked Rita and Estelle completely off their feet, flinging them like dolls into Karol who barely slowed them down in the least. They tumbled in a mass of limbs together, blind and deaf and head over heels until the rock began to move around them.

Estelle tried to keep her eyes open, but they blurred. She tried to listen, but her ears rang. She tried to keep track of Yuri to the very last, but eventually there was more rock than sky, more black than white.

The ground leapt up to meet her temple and everything disappeared.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: Yuri's not so good with the heartfelt thing, poor bastard. And now I feel like I've vomitted gloom and sentiment all over your shoes. Sorry about the mess.**

**As usual but with extra heart, I thank everyone who is still reading and reviewing! God knows I wouldn't have gotten this far without knowing there were people still reading, even with mild passing interest. You've made this writer very, very happy.**


	23. To Fix This

**23: To Fix This**

.  
_oOo_  
.

Witcher came to with what might have been Terca Lumereis' most abominable headache.

It was ear-splitting. The searing throb was intense, a kinda of all-encompassing agony, and it didn't feel like it belonged exclusively to his head. It could have been the rocks and boulders that were still bouncing and thundering down the landslide, or the echoes of the explosion that was still reverberating through the rocky canyon… more likely, it was probably Sodia giving him a heartless rattle, like being thrown around by landslides was no real excuse for resting. That was just sadistic.

"Witcher! You have to get up!"

"Leave me alone!" Witcher moaned, trying to roll out of her grip. His glasses felt wrong the minute he turned his head. It didn't take long to discover that they had been horrifically bent across the bridge, and no matter how he hooked and balanced them over his nose and ears, the only intact lens was angled badly and aimed at the sky. It was a disaster. They had been expensive and custom made.

Sodia roughly stole them from his hands, twisted them back in place with all the care of an exasperated mother and shoved them back on his face. Witcher had barely fumbled them into a more comfortable position before she had hauled him to his feet.

"The pack is gone," she was saying desperately. "And my map! And- and we've been separated from the Commandant. That monster is still on the loose and he could be hurt, so there's no time to waste."

Commandant, Commandant, Commandant.

"What about us?" Witcher muttered, trying to squint through his one straight lens.

"You have your arms and legs, don't you?"

And broken bones and a concussion, no doubt. And broken glasses. Unsurprisingly, Sodia didn't seem to care and was already glancing around the dusty basin for a way out.

"I think the landslide took us further down the mountain," said she. "But it could be worse, and all we have to do is head up. No doubt we'll meet the Commandant at the summit."

...Unless their commanding officer had been crushed a landslide, eaten by that monster or blown to smithereens.

"This is folly," Witcher said as tactfully as he could.

"We don't have a choice," Sodia retorted promptly.

Through the lace-work of his shattered glasses, it was strange to see her looking so dishevelled. Her braid had half undone and her uniform was all crumpled and dirty. The only thing familiar about the image was that determined frown.  
There would be no reason when she looked like that. No matter that he had probably suffered severe head trauma after that explosion, or that there might not be a route upwards at all and they'd be trapped here forever… There was just that worry, and Witcher knew that nothing he could say would make much of a difference.

They were heading up, whether they died gruesomely in the attempt or not.

"… Up it is, then," he sighed, feeling very much like he'd just signed his death warrant. The corner of Sodia's mouth tweaked upwards in that almost smile of hers, and she gave his shoulder a pat.

"We can rest when this is all over," she said in what she probably thought was a reassuring way.

They spent a morose few minutes rummaging around in the rubble on the off-chance that Sodia's pack had survived the tumble. It hadn't, and with nothing more than her sword and a brittle branch they found between two rocks, they began to poke around the edges of the clearing for a route upwards.

Witcher was testing what remained of the landslide with his branch when Sodia gave a sudden jerk.

"Ow!" she managed, using one hand to rub at the back of her neck.

"What is it?" Witcher wondered distractedly.

"S-Something bit me."

"A bug?" was the next vague question. There was the beginning of a path just up the slope, its ragged edge a few feet past Witcher's height.

"No, it felt like… I don't…"

The path had once passed right over their heads, but the landslide that had dragged them so far down had gouged out the path too. Witcher squinted at the nearest edge and poked at the crumbling rock curiously; this section had survived because there were shrubs growing at its sides. The roots had held the earth together. Some of the scraggly tendrils that were bared to the morning sun were low enough to grab, and he wondered if they would support their weight.

"Sodia! Look, I – I think that's our way out of here," Witcher called out over his shoulder. He had already reached up and seized the first root before he realised everything had gone silent behind him. Sodia was standing exactly where he'd left her, her eyes lowered to her palm as if she held something in it, expression slightly confused and worried.

"Sodia?"

She stirred from that weird stupor. Her hand flapped abruptly as if to shake something free, and there was desperation in the gesture. Witcher tried to adjust his mangled glasses to see, but everything was segmented into blurry, grimy facets. All he could make out was her grim expression, and then that was that.

"G-Good work, Witcher. Sorry. I'm fine. Nothing… Nothing's wrong, let's go meet up with the others."

She strode past him to grapple at the roots, and Witcher wiped his sweaty hands down his front before stealing another glance over his shoulder. No matter how he squinted or twisted his glasses, there was nothing to take from the view but rock, dust, and the unshakable feeling that something very wrong had just happened.

"Witcher!"

"I-I'm coming!" he protested.

And then, against his better judgement, he turned away from the dusty basin and shrugged the feeling off.

.  
_oOo_  
.

"I-I think she's coming to!"

The world warped and went fuzzy when Rita wiped the sweat out of her eyes. She scowled through the sting and shot a brief look over her shoulder. Karol was lumbering along behind her like an eggbear, keeping pace despite his considerable burdens. He looked heavier and taller than usual with Estelle, his bag and Rita's backpack slung over his shoulders. The princess was jostling with every step, but the matted mess of her pink hair shifted when she tried to lift her head. Karol had slowed down hopefully.

"Stop moving and I'll kill you myself!" Rita snapped furiously. He pulled a face, jogged the groaning princess higher and then lumbered back into motion.

He had barely taken the first step when the scream tore through the valley like a stampede, shaking bushes and dislodging rock all around. The echoing acoustics of the valley had made the sound even worse.

Rita's vision split into doubles, trembling as if her eyeballs were rattling in their sockets. She swore when her shoulder struck the rocky cliff-face, the flesh already bruised black and blue from every single time this had happened. It was impossible keeping balance when the noise continued to batter at her ear-drums; she'd given up blocking her ears miles ago, because every scream had tipped her over regardless if she had them plugged or not.

How the hell did it keep finding them?

_-ita, there!_

Was that Karol or had she imagined it? Rita clung to the mountainside as her vision spun itself back in place, twisting where she was to see him.

Estelle had woken up. She was standing (albeit propped heavily against her younger friend's shoulder) and already pressing a glowing hand to her own temple. Karol was holding her steady, but his attention was elsewhere.

He _was _speaking, but whatever he said was lost under the ringing in Rita's ears. She gestured that fact at him angrily and Karol ruffled at his windswept hair in pure frustration. He jabbed a finger pointedly to his right. Rita followed the line he gestured down and, making the air shudder in her lungs, she saw what had filled his chalky expression with such hope.

The mountains had rose from the ranges hours ago, shedding the protective canyons all around them and leaving the path the traversed vulnerable to the sky. They had been hiding behind boulders and wedging themselves into gashes in the mountainside in their dogged quest upwards, but even those little safe-havens were becoming rare.

What Karol pointed at was one final rend in the mountain. Through that narrow passage, Rita could see the distant and dilapidated remains of an old krityan house.

They were at the summit.

A laugh shot from Rita's tight throat, thin with disbelief. She turned to give Karol a grin, but the expression went rigid before it even made it to the corners of her lips.

Past her friend's shoulder, down the winding path and just beyond a pair of craggy spires, Izuna dropped from the sky and onto the path. The entelexeia didn't even search her out. He had her locked in his sights from the instant he landed, his eyes two pearly lights in the gloom. He was too big to fully squeeze past the spires, and Rita's blood ran cold when the entelexeia forced himself through anyway, focused and unblinking with intent.  
She felt pinned by that gaze even as he thrashed and scrabbled at the rock.

"GO!" she shouted, hoping her voice would make it. Karol's face was white with understanding. As effortlessly as a dishcloth, he swept Estelle up and tossed her over a shoulder. He went from standing to running in half a second. Rita pushed herself after him, hating how weak and unfit she felt, hating having to run at all.

Izuna gave a furious bark, wings snapping at the air and claws carving great ruts out of the stone. Rita watched the creature lever the colossal pillar of stone slowly aside, tipping it over the edge of the cliff face. The earth shook when it struck the pathways below, and the rumbled made Karol stumble and tripped Rita entirely.

She hit the ground on her knees harshly enough to make her legs exploded into a riot of tingles, but it was hard to care when Izuna eviscerated the ancient pathway in his haste to scrabble towards them. Rita forced herself back to her numb feet and stumbled her way after Karol. Fear had always given him wings; he was already at the fissure in the mountainside, dropping Estelle to her feet and giving her a desperate shove to safety. The princess disappeared into the narrow opening with a small cry of shock. Karol moved one foot after her and turned.

He looked like a horrified twelve-year-old again when he met Rita's eyes. She flapped a hand at him to make him just go, move on, get to safety, but the idiot lingered there and held a hand out. As if that would help.

Rita swore. Izuna had already cleared the cluttered rocks of the lower pathway and clamoured his way over a boulder. It gave him just enough height to give his arcing wings one clapping _whumph. _The gust of wind struck Rita in the face like a cold slap, made worse because the monstrous creature had propelled himself forward in a surge that ate up most of the distance between them. Suddenly there was more entelexeia than sky and mountainside, his eyes a pair of moons in the broad, scaly face that filled her vision. He opened his mouth. You could count every jagged, needle like tooth at this distance.

_Almost there_.

"RITA!" Karol shouted desperately. "GRAB MY HA-"

The world sheared into pieces all over again. Double-vision spinning, Rita had nothing to careen into to substitute her lost balance. She fell to the ground instead, rolling because it was impossible to tell where up was when it spun around like a top. Izuna continued to scream even as the giant creature rose up over her like a tidal wave, blocking out the sun. A pair of feet decked with talons thundered on either side of her. Rita snarled up at those two glowing eyes and that wide half-moon of teeth and red spit. There was no seeing straight when he continued to screech. There was no standing when her eardrums shook like barrels about to burst.

_Screw it. I hate running_.

She couldn't hear. Her sight swung in sickening loops. Everything trembled like shaken leaves, but Rita's brain was cold and hard and angry and clear. It whirred away, calculating furiously, making it up as she went along because what other choice did she have? Formula to Aer, Aer to mana, mana to a scratchy voice pushed past her gummy tongue. A great globule of rancid spit struck her cheek and slid over her ear. Izuna jaws opened wide and she saw another row of teeth, lining the roof of his mouth in layers of cruel barbs. They were all she could see when he brought his jaws lower.

Rita glared at the creature's tonsils angrily.

"_Blade Roll_," she wheezed.

It shot out to her left, a colossal shard of white that made the pebbles clatter under the super-charge of energy. The ethereal sword jittered on the spot, like a compass needle on the Atherum, then sheared up and over in a vicious curve that didn't stop until it had lodged to the earth on her right.

Izuna's screech cut short.

Something warm and wet hit Rita's shoulder and slithered off, twitching against her neck. It wasn't until Izuna reeled backwards and let the sun back in that Rita realised it was a sizable chunk of his tongue, severed cleanly through. She scrabbled away from its squirming length.

The entelexeia crashed into the mountainside in his thrashing, spraying the air with blood and spit from his hacked mouth. A good wedge of his teeth were gone and Rita caught sight of one large split, like a lopsided and bloody grin, carved up one cheek. She turned her back on the sight and focused on escaping. She had reached out to grab a rock to help her get to her feet, but found Karol's outstretched hand instead. He tugged her upwards and suddenly they were both careening towards the fissure.  
Izuna struck out at them with his spiked tail, and Rita didn't even see it coming until Karol ducked them low and it whistled overhead. It lodged in the mountainside, stuck there and trembling with the effort of pulling free as they scrabbled under it and between the shelves of rock.

It was shockingly quiet in the narrow path through the split mountain. Rita's head was still ringing and Karol was saying something that was muffled down to a droning hum in her ear, his hands rough when he pushed and ushered her further. He didn't stop shoving until they had almost tripped over Estelle huddling in the very centre of the confined pathway. Rita sank to the ground beside her with a wince. Izuna's bubbling scream of frustration echoed hollow through the fissure behind them, but it was weak. A flurry of wingbeats later, and they heard him at the opposite mouth of the fissure, scrabbling at the narrow entrance.

They were safe, but trapped.

Estelle and Karol were both speaking now in an annoying buzz that she couldn't understand. Rita tried to swat their hands away, but Estelle persisted. Her gloves felt scratchy when they moved over the mage's face. Suddenly there was a sensation not painful or uncomfortable.

It was warmth. The buzz became voices.

"-can't believe it. Oh man. Oh man, just… Seriously, I'm really sorry Rita, I should have waited, but I didn't and _oh man_-"

"-must be more careful! That was reckless and amazing and I just – please don't frighten me like that!"

And past the babbling of her friends, another voice filtered through the fissure.

"-_really delaying th' inebitable. Come on. Shtop thish, now."_

Rita scoffed at herself for being surprised. Of _course _he was there. By the sounds of that slur, Jerard must be sharing a little of his brother's injury, too. The thought was incredibly satisfying.

"What is _he _doing here?" Karol hissed, shuffling a little away from the slither of sky down the tunnel.

"He leads that thing around like a dog, if you haven't noticed," Rita managed, rubbing her face. "It probably can't blink without him telling it how."

"So Izuna just follows that Keeper guy around?"

"Wasn't it obvious?"

… And there was no out-smarting an enemy that size when it was being directed by someone with half their wits about them. Rita was a realist. She glared down at her tingling feet and knew unequivocally that no matter how you looked at things, this was a dead end. She hoped that truth wasn't stencilled across her face.

On the bright side, at least the world had stopped spinning. She spent a precious moment savouring her renewed sense of balance, then reached behind her and tugged at her backpack. Rita hauled her mana transmitter out and set it firmly down on the earth. She had to crack her knuckles to stop her fingers from shaking when she keyed in the console's initiation.

"Oh, the transmitter!" Estelle said in a hush, shuffling on her knees closer.

"We are pretty high," Karol added hopefully. Even he realised something was wrong when, partway through the whirring startup, the mana transmitter gave an unhealthy click and began to fold back in on itself, shutting down prematurely. Rita hadn't expected any different. The rock around them caused too much interference. She'd need to get to a big open space.

Just perfect.

"… No good," Rita muttered, giving the contraption a disgusted shove. "I'll need to get this running outside, and I think all I did to that entelexeia was tick it off."

"_-can wait all day, you know. Can you?"_

The grey morning was going ever so slowly red. No one had the time to wait. But Izuna continued to pace furiously back and forth between them and their destination, a pendulum of shadow over the light.

Karol kept shaking his head in disbelief, as if doing it enough would change things. Estelle pressed both hands over her heart and closed her eyes. It was a gesture so heartfelt and desperate that Rita thought she might have been praying. But the next words from her lips were nothing of the sort, and it made something give a little twinge in the mage's chest.

"… I wish Yuri was here."

Rita stared resolutely at her feet. She had no idea what kind of words you were supposed to use at times like these, but, for the first time ever, she felt she might have understood that feeling a little. It was a little like yearning, but more like regret.

Rita hated it.

"We were so close," Estelle said next, eyes swimming. "I-I really thought I was strong enough to handle this but… but I'm still just a burden. I'm so sorry Rita, Karol."

Karol said nothing, expression distant and grim.

"Don't be dumb," Rita muttered, if only to fill that horrible silence. She was thinking about Estelle's abrupt and candid confession to Yuri. It had been so soppy and dramatic that Rita had been squirming with discomfort… but maybe it had been the clever thing to do. Maybe Estelle just had her yearning to deal with and none of the regret. Maybe Rita should have just kissed Raven when she had the chance, regardless of who saw it or not.

… No point thinking about it _now_.

Estelle must have been something equally bleak, for she dropped her chin to her neck suddenly and let her hair veil her face. Rita leant back against the stone and rubbed her knuckles into her tickling eyeballs.

The silent was cold, rippled through with the frantic motions of Izuna scrabbling and fussing at the exit.

And then there was movement beside her. Rita pushed her knuckles in deeper, not wanting to deal with whatever it was that Karol had to say, not wanting to have to explain to him in a slow voice just how bad a pinch they were in. He said nothing, just muttered a sorry when he clamoured to his feet and squeezed past.

Rita wasn't expecting the next burst of sound, and it made her jump.

"Hey, Mister Record Keeper Guy!" Karol bellowed, voice echoing, "C-Can we talk? Y-You know, cease-fire? I call Uncle! I give up! I want to surrender!"

"You idiot!" Rita managed, trying to grab at him. Estelle had a hand clapped over her mouth, citrust eyes wide.

"… _are you stupid?" _came the distant voice. Izuna's silhouette shifted briefly at the fissure mouth, then receeded as the entelexeia lumbered back a few feet. Karol crept closer to the exit, hands raised in defeat. Rita and Estelle both scrabbled after him at the same time, hands trying to lock over his legs and arms. He slipped free as easily as if they were the children and not he.

"I'm serious!" Karol burst out again. Another step. "I-I just don't want to die! C'mon, we can't fight an entelexeia! I swear I'll just run, alright?"

They were close enough now that the glare dimmed and Rita could see beyond the dark edges of their safe haven. They were at the edge of the final bridge over the craggy, rocky slope of the mountainside. It stretched over that drop to the final plateau. The krityan town was built on that open expanse, tantalisingly close.

Rita froze, gripping Karol's arm and mouth suddenly dry. Seeing her destination only yards away was a weird feeling. More so because Izuna lurked on the land-bridge between them like a cautious cat, head lowered and tail thrashing angrily.

The entelexeia was wary. The split jaw was still bleeding.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Jerard wondered, perched upon his brothers back like a man astride a picnic blanket.

"I-I kinda figured it was dumb fighting," Karol shot back sheepishly. "Surrender makes sense, right? I… I know when I'm beat."

"Karol, you can't," Estelle gasped, hands wrapped around one ankle. He tugged it free, and she made a small noise of horror. Rita had to grab her shoulders and pull her back when Karol took his first timid step from the fissure and out into the open.

Jerard sat up straight, frowning down at the lone figure before him suspiciously.

"You're going to die anyway, twit," he pointed out tartly.

"M-Maybe not?" Karol said. He took another meek step, one that moved him completely out of his friend's reach. Rita swore. _Blade Roll_ wasn't likely to work again, and without Yuri and Judy around, what else did they have to fight an entelexeia? Karol knew that. What the _hell _was he thinking?

Jerard was having trouble figuring it out, too. The krityan man ran a hand over his slick hair and pulled a face.

"… Does this mean the Child of the Full Moon is giving up too?" he wondered hopefully.

"What? No! J-Just me," Karol said next. Carefully, in a way that looked entirely meek and nervous, he had swung his bag around his hip and let it rest by his hand. Rita's face went cold.

"I guess it was too much to ask," Jerard sighed. "… On the other hand, I suppose she'll have to come out to save you if my brother takes a few limbs off. Oh, and the mage. Get her out here too, I've a bone to pick with her."

"So… no truce?" Karol managed, hopefully.

"Don't make me laugh," was the cruel response.

_Dammit! _Rita thought furiously, all but tripping over Estelle in her desperate bid to get up. She stumbled over her in a frustrated lurch, nerves tingling and jangling because _Fireball _was already curdling through its first stages. Izuna had lumbered forward a step. If she took him by surprise, the spell might just hit and buy them some time...

But Karol was in the way. He wasn't running. He just stood there, bag at his hip and hands opening and closing in impatient little pulses as if he was waiting for something.

Izuna had hunkered low by the time the guild master found what he was looking for.

He shifted in a flash of motion, unexpected and abrupt.

"_GAIA BUG!_"

His hand had shot into his bag and returned before Rita could even register what had happened, arcing high in an over-armed throw that made her ears pop. All she saw was a streak of copper in the umber morning as it left his glove. All she saw was the familiar wedge of metal in the hazy light.

The Lost Records shot straight as an arrow, a cannon ball of plate, flashing over Izuna's lowered head with plenty of room to spare. There was no time to feel disappointed. The scroll drove on with a whistle.  
It hadn't even lost momentum by the time the heavy copper lid met Jerard's face with in audible crunch.

The Keeper snapped back silently, silenced by all that metal flattened across his mouth and nose, probably unconscious by the time his back hit Izuna's flanks. The entelexeia gave a yelp and struck the ground on its shoulder, disoriented and stumbling from a blow not even his. His brother slid boneless from his scaly hide in the process.

Rita burst from the alcove with a gasp, _Fireball _stalled in a single ring around her. Estelle was not far behind, and they could only gape as Jerard groaned into the dirt and began to pick himself up. Karol was already at a sprint.

"I'm counting on you guys!" he shouted, voice distant already, dwindling in the thin mountain air. He swung his bag over his shoulder, ducked under one sluggish wing scything in overhead, then clattered over the final landbridge and lunged.

He caught Jerard around the middle in full-bodied tackle. They hit the very edge of the bridge awkwardly, head and shoulders hanging over the drop, and it didn't seem real when Karol drove his forearm under the Keeper's chin and then used one foot to drive them both the rest of the way.

"KAROL!" Estelle burst out.

The boy and kritya tumbled over the edge like ragdolls, twisting mid-air until they hit the rocky incline below. It was already impossible to tell who had hit the ground first. It was a bundle of cloth and limbs and confusion that skid down that slope, instantly dislodging a landslide of rock and dust, bouncing over that final drop and disappearing from view. All that remained was the dust cloud, already drifting down to settle.

Izuna gave a pitiful garbled bark. The entelexeia launched himself after them, tripping over his own tail in his haste to get airborne. He dropped down the cliff-face like a sparrow, swirling the dust one final time before everything became silent and still.

It had all happened within seconds.

Rita sucked in a breath she could barely feel in her lungs. Her hands were shaking, and the unused mana fizzled in her veins uncomfortably.

"Y-You _idiot_!" she broke out, gut aching as if someone had slugged her there. The empty mountain moaned back, hollow and uncaring.

This wasn't how things got done. Was _this _the best they could come up with? Throwing their bodies at a problem until it went away? Rita couldn't breathe for the fury, the disgust, the horror. This wasn't how things were supposed to go.

And no matter how long she waited, Karol didn't haul himself over the lip of the cliff to apologise. There was just the wind.

It felt like an eternity later when Estelle appeared at her shoulder, face old with emotion. The princess had stopped wiping her eyes hours ago; she was caked in dust and dirt, layers of it dried to her cheeks like streaky war paint. She had the backpack with the mana transmitter under arm.  
There was no hesitation when she reached out and took Rita's hand. It was a tired gesture, one without pretense.

"I... I think it's going to be alright," she announced, more to herself than Rita. The statement felt jagged and out of place. It was a strange thing to say, considering Karol had just disappeared off a cliff. It was a strange thing to say when they were the only ones left, exposed as they were under Vesperia's flame.

Rita never said a word as they left the empty landbridge behind. She had nothing to share when the wreckage of the krityan township rose up around them like wraiths, or when a cloud finally moved away from Vesperia and unleashed a wash of red light onto the mountain.

There were no words for that, so Rita tightened her hand around Estelle's.

There was just the same old problem, and Rita was running out of friends and ways to fix it.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Repede wasn't comfortable.

War was noisy. Violence reeked. People panicked and raged and trembled in terror, oozing discontent. It was assaulting to be anywhere near that. Worse still was to sit patiently in the midst of it, puffing on a pipe that had long since emptied, keeping an eye on a friend who wasn't in any state to be keeping an eye on herself.

Guarding things was second nature to Repede, and aside from the cacophony of war, it didn't bother him in the least that he had his paws full shepherding the fray away that hallowed space in Ba'ul's shadow. It felt right to do so. A few times there had been enemies that had seen the lone woman standing up to her ankles in the gloom and decided to attack. Sometimes they were monks, reeking of incense and attacking anything not in ceremonial robes. Sometimes they were soldiers, seeing only the antennae and assuming the worst. Either way, Repede didn't spare them much time, quarter or mercy.

He was waiting and guarding, and those were the rules, clean and simple.

Eventually that task got easier. The fighting had shifted from the lower plains and further up into the network of pathways and hiking trails. It didn't stop Repede's ears from flickering cautiously, and it didn't stop his teeth from gnawing anxiously on the metal mouthpiece of his pipe.

War was never comfortable, but there was something elsevery, very wrong about that morning.

The light was all wrong.

It was like seeing the mountain through eyes splashed with blood. The red that washed over the landscape put Repede's hackles up, and he wasn't the only one feeling it. The birds had long ago fled. The small game of the mountain had bolted over the open plains the second the fighting had moved on.

Something deep in Repede's core was itching to do the same. The light was all wrong, and every instinct he had was demanding that he flee. But he had something important to guard, so he stayed.

He was glaring out at the flank of soldiers over the hill – daring them to come much closer – when Judith suddenly stirred beside him.

She shivered in a susurration of movement from the ankles to the tips of her long ears. She shook herself as if to free herself of the tremble, then looked around with curious eyes. They were the eyes of a predator, and Repede growled softly to himself.

She turned that look down on him in surprise. Judith hadn't realised he had been there, and that was worrying.

"Hello, Repede," Judith said. Repede stared back cautiously.

She stretched suddenly like a flexing cat, all muscle and poise and claws and Repede continued to watch her, partly worried, mostly suspicious. She reached down and gave him a pat.

"Oh my, you _have_ been patient," she said with a fond smile. "You must be tired of waiting."

He was, and the dog gave a curt bark to say as much.

"That's funny, I am too," Judith said in a voice that made him quiver with anticipation.

They stared at the grim horizon together for a moment, taking in the last of the peace. Repede yawned. Judith smirked at that, then delicately liberated her feet from the dirt with a puff of grit and dust, her spear arcing around in a graceful crescent. She lifted her chin and turned her crimson gaze up the mountainside with the eyes of a hawk.

"Yes, I think it's time to do something about it," she decided pleasantly. Repede heard the authority and decision in her voice. He felt the intent, and he snorted appreciatively. With one final puff of his empty pipe, he lifted himself onto his paws and shook the dust from his coat. Whatever she had in mind was better than waiting.

"Let's go hunting," Judith said darkly.

… and hunting was best of all.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: Apologies for the longest delay yet. My month was incredibly awful, then amazingly pleasant, then gut-wrenchingly bad, and then a kind of dazed mediocre at the end. I spent alot of time hiding under the couch-cushions. It's not much of an excuse, but I feel that writing the chapters of an ending requires a bit of focus, and I didn't have any.  
As you might have guessed, there's going to be all sorts of action going on. Not everyone's cup of tea, but I'm looking forward to it, and I really hope I can entertain you anyhow! Thankyou, as ever, for reading!**


	24. Two Sides of One Line

**24: Two Sides of One Line**

.  
_oOo_  
.

The mana transmitter reminded Estelle of a flower, unfolding shyly under the morning light like the very first blossom of spring. Only it didn't feel much like springtime in the derelict and ghostly husk of Temza's township. There was nothing spring-like about the burnt glow of Brave Vesperia.

Estelle watched Rita's fingers work away at the keyboard of her console, coaxing layer after layer of the transmitter open until all that was left was the miniature blastia core, suspended under a cluster of spires.

_I hope no one can see the glow, _Estelle thought nervously. They had found the most secluded spot in the whole forgotten town, but that light sure was bright... Without warning, a beam of energy burst upwards and punctured the sky like a javelin, connecting the ground to heaven with a single column of magic. So much for stealth.

Estelle glanced fretfully about. There was no hiding that spotlight. It could probably been seen on the other side of the continent. And it wasn't until Estelle watched Rita start adjusting the contraption that she realised she had no idea what was to come next. The transmitter was producing a garbled series of notes and trills at them, and she had no idea what any of it meant.

"That's done it," Rita mumbled, pleased.

… And not only that, Estelle realised, but she had the vague impression that the person who should be doing all of this was _her_. This was her duty as the Child of the Full Moon, wasn't it? But as much as she had tried to change, as much as she had forced herself to become stronger, she still had no control over what was happening on that mountaintop.

Rita continued to sullenly force the world into order, and Estelle continued to watch uselessly.

"Wow, I've never seen anything like this," Rita was muttering with a wince. "I haven't… this formula loops in ways I've never... wait, maybe I can convert it…"

That furious tapping resumed. Estelle lifted her eyes up at Brave Vesperia and tried to imagine what it was her duty had been. She tried to picture her ancestors, to piece together what they would have done to return the blastia safely home.

She had no idea at all. There was no one to ask. If what the Lost Records had said was true, there was probably only one person still alive who could tell her.

Estelle flipped that thought in her head, weighing it grimly. It was still fresh in her thoughts when, as Rita successfully began to translate the ancient formula, the next sound crackled through the magical static.

_**Hello?**_

... and Estelle wasn't surprised at all.

"Hello," she murmured sadly, scooting closer. On her right, Rita had frozen in a tableau of shock, mouth ajar and eyes round.

… _**This… is unexpected, **_said the voice from the transmitter. _**Are you… the Child of the Full Moon?**_

"Yes," Estelle replied. She shifted uncomfortably, because for the first time ever, she felt like she hadn't lived up to the title.  
Rita lifted her fingers slowly and carefully as if she'd dropped her hands in something unexpected. Her eyes didn't budge from the scrolling lines of formula on her research panel.

"Estelle," she hissed, "that's-"

Estelle's responsibility. The only true victim in all of this.

"Ragnus," she supplied. "His name is Ragnus."

.  
_oOo_  
.

The morning broke into pieces all at once, taking the carefully laid plans of Flynn Scifo and shattering them on the rock.

They had been so close. The summit was just up one last rise, the village close enough to see. The climb itself hadn't taken them long at all, but most of the morning was still gone in a frustrating cascade of arguments and strife. They'd been slowed at every fork in the road, at every cave and crevasse, the mission dissolving into a petty tug of war. Flynn had insisted they hurry on. Yuri had demanded they slow down and search.

It was an exhausting and never-ending battle. It was also one Flynn had steadily won. He had most of his childhood to learn how to deal with Yuri's moods, and there wasn't much the renegade could say that would have shaken Flynn's resolve. No, his plan had been entirely Yuri-proof. It had only come to pieces when they had arrived at one of the final plateaus before the summit.

A figure had burst from the dense rock formations to their left in a rush of torn cloth.

Flynn moved instantly. He intercepted the newcomer with his shield, hard and low, getting into melee before Yuri by a hair's breadth. Flynn was almost ashamed to be so afraid of his friend's control, but someone had to be vigilant...

He forgot all of that when the small body plastered to his shield slid from its face and to the dirt with a familiar groan.

"Witcher!" he managed, stunned.

"C-Commandant," came the muffled response. It took some time for him to lift his face. Flynn was struck speechless when he did. His lieutenant was a collection of cuts and bruises and wounds strung together by tenuous patches of mage. Flynn stirred from his shock and, hesitantly, he dropped a hand carefully to his subordinate's shoulder.

Witcher flinched at the contact.

"W-who did this to you?" was all Flynn could think to ask. His blood ran cold when the answer came from the hollow space on the other side of the clearing.

"Don't you know? The deadliest wounds come from those we most trust."

Yuri went very still.

"Betrayal can cut _very _deep_," _Elis added, voice almost too soft to reach them. She stood in that shapeless way of hers on one of the many rocky formations that skirted their clearing, her mangled ears flashing when the wind tugged hungrily at her hair. Even from this distance Flynn could see her expression.  
She watched them with the same interest as she would show garbage that had fallen shy of its bin.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," Yuri said quietly.

"I live here," Elis returned icily. "You can hardly be surprised." Her lip curled in disdain when his scabbard clattered across the dry dirt. "... And I don't recall extending an invitation."

"C-Commandant, I-I'm sorry," Witcher murmured, eyes shifting guiltily. Flynn hushed him softly and eased him back against a smooth rock as gently as he could. He gave the mage a pat on the shoulder, then rose cautiously. Witcher was wounded, not poisoned. Something was amiss...

"Yuri, focus," Flynn warned in a low voice.

"I am focused," Yuri tossed scornfully over his shoulder. He was already striding ahead with all the intent of a wrecking ball. "Believe me. I won't let this chance slip again."

Elis stared placidly down at them, unmoving, unimpressed to the last. Flynn expected her to retreat, but surprisingly, it was Yuri that came to a premature halt. Half a second later, the krityan reluctantly shifted to follow the swordsman's distracted gaze.

A thin string of light had shot up from behind the final crest of mountain, a thread of pure mana stitched into the canvas of the sky. They all stared at it in confusion. It took a few bewildered heartbeats before everything made sense and Flynn's breath left him in a relieved burst.

_They'd made it after all…_

Elis was the next to react; a scowl of pure disgust seized her features and her thin hands curled abruptly into fists.

"You people are like gnats," she said irritably. "I thought I told them not to let the mage near the summit... Useless! Must I do everything myself?"

She turned to leave. Yuri cut a vengeful seam in the air with a swipe of his blade.

"Woah, you can't be serious?" he demanded, and the cruel twist to his grin was chilling. "What's the rush? The party's just getting started!"

Flynn's eyes darted up to the lone figure by the exit. Elis was unarmed and undefended, but she slowly turned back and stood there as if there wasn't a murderous swordsman only a few yards away, as if she wasn't flirting with her own death. She looked perfectly at ease.

"I don't have time for you," she said.

"I'll make this quick," Yuri promised darkly, fingers curling comfortably around his sword grip.

He began to move forward again. He was so tunnel-visioned that he didn't see the slip of colour that separated from the rocks.

Flynn surged forward and shouldered his friend aside just in time. Sword raised high defensively, he grunted when another blade crashed down from the left and rattled, chaotic and unbalanced, against the metal. The quaking edge dipped dangerously close to Flynn's face when shock made his grip weak.

His vision was filled with orange.

"Lieutenant!" he managed.

"-_not supposed to – how can he – I didn't even mean to-"_

Sodia's eyes were so dilated that they were black, rimmed by only the thinnest slither of amethyst. Her gaze quivered as horribly as her weapon, blurring straight through him as she stared at something horrifying in her mind's eye. Flynn fell back a step, stunned. She pressed in closer with her full weight, hair falling over her face and sticking there on the sheen of sweat.  
He came to his senses just in time to parry her next strike.

A moment later and his wrist gave a dull throb. She wasn't holding back.

"Forgive the improvisation, but _someone _needs to keep you busy while I clean up this mess," Elis announced callously.

Flynn shot an incredulous look her way. The lapse in focus nearly got him killed. Sodia came forward in a low lunge and a vicious slice under his defences; had Flynn not lurched back just in time, the attack would have gutted him. It was bad positioning. He was off balance on his heel while his lieutenant was forward on the balls of her feet. She surged forward in a blitz that hammered him completely off his feet.

Flynn struck the rock on his shoulder. He rolled with it anyway to get some distance, then raised his shield the second it was out from under him. The expected follow-up blow never came.

Sodia had moved on. She darted in a quick jag – exploiting the blind-spot, just as Flynn had taught her - and drove forward in a low thrust.

Yuri almost didn't see it. He spun at the last moment and his sword connected with hers in a spark of ground metal. The stab had been aimed at his heart.

Flynn struggled desperately to his feet.

"SODIA!"

She didn't even flinch. Her expression didn't change. There was no evidence that she'd heard him at all.

"W-What the hell's your problem?" Yuri demanded, giving their locked blades an acrimonious shove. "Stow it, lieutenant! I don't have time fo-"

"_You shouldn't be here!_" Sodia burst out in a tortured voice. There was nothing stable about that manic warble. It made Yuri's mouth snap shut and his eyes go round with shock. Flynn watched with dread as his reliable, level-headed lieutenant wobbled on her feet as if she was drunk. She was muttering to herself, volume fluctuating erratically.

"_You _can't _be here… I-I didn't mean to but I – I swear you fell all the way and," - _tears pattered the dusty earth -_ "and you can't be here, you just can't – don't make me do it again! Please don't!"_

"Lieutenant, stand down," Flynn attempted, but his voice came out hoarse and soft. Delirious? Hallucinating? She was so… _vulnerable, _and Flynn took an unconscious step forward.

Meanwhile, Elis had casually dropped from her vantage point and dusted herself off, utterly confident of her distraction.

Yuri noticed as well. His eyes slid carefully to where she stood at the clearing's exit, then back to the woman wavering before him. Sodia was weeping steadily from unblinking eyes, the words '_don't make me' _tumbling like a mantra from her lips. The cagey, determined look in his eye was unmistakable. He adjusted his grip on his sword subtly.

"Yuri, don't!" Flynn barked, heart hammering.

And Yuri, horrifically true to form, didn't listen.

.  
_oOo_  
.

"-and when a solution was found, I was to bring him and the facility back home. That was my duty as the Child of the Full Moon."

Estelle found herself blushing for reasons she couldn't quite fathom. Shame curdled in her stomach, and it took her a few moments to figure out why.

Their distant audience had patiently listened to the entire explanation right alongside Rita. She wondered what he thought of all this. Of her.

"There's been an _entelexeia _up there all this time?" Rita demanded once it had all settled in, jabbing a finger up at the distant blastia.

_**This is true, **_Ragnus confirmed. His voice was strung strangely through the whirring apparatus. Rita took the moment to gape at the transmitter. Estelle could see her carefully digesting the information piece by piece, silent until she had formed an opinion. The expression wasn't of wonder like Estelle had been expecting.

Rita leant slowly in to the transmitter until her nose nearly touched the strings of formula.

"Are you _dense_?" A hand slapped down on the dusty ground furiously. "You've been up there all this time watching this happen? The facility is coming down too fast! It's going to cause deep impact, you _moron_!"

Estelle fidgeted nervously while her friend lectured an ancient guardian of life.

_**Oh**_**, **was Ragnus' reasonable reply. _**Unfortunate.**_

"Tha- whu- you!- _Fix it_!" Rita shrieked, fingers curling into claws over her research panel.

There was a measured silence.

_**How? **_Ragnus asked earnestly.

"Y-You must know the facility well after all this time," Estelle broke in, if only to stop Rita from imploding with fury. She shuffled a little closer on her knees and added, "You're its technician after all. I-I mean, that's what the Lost Records said."

_**This is true, but... **__**I've never landed before, **_Ragnus replied. Rita simmered angrily, glaring at the scrolling lines of syntax until, after a loaded silence, she eventually breathed out heavily through her nose. It was a ceasefire, and Estelle gave a relieved sigh of her own.

"I suppose that makes sense," Rita explained in a tight voice. "Alright, I guess I can help. I mean, an entelexeia up there? This could be _good _news. If you can run me a diagnostic of the blastia's systems, maybe we can minimise this disaster. Together."

_**Alright.**_

And Ragnus ran his diagnostic. Estelle watched in wonder as Rita's research panel fizzed with data, filling up within seconds. The mage scanned the formula avidly, gnawing on her thumb the whole while. She had worried at the nail for half a moment before making a small noise of frustration.

"... That's _it_? Most of this is about keeping the barrier running. You sure that's it?"

_**I'm sure.**_

Rita tapped a single line of formula.

"That leaves _this_. Not sure what it does though."

"What have we got to lose?" Estelle asked eagerly. "Surely at this point... it can only be helpful." That was met with a nod and a shrug.

To the transmitter, Rita said, "Start it up."

.  
_oOo_  
.

They clashed like titans, every swing vicious and desperate, every strike a killing blow. There was no strategy. There was no dance. Just desperation, like every second of violence was a wasted second. Yuri had creativity and finesse, but impatience left him wide open and while Sodia was not as talented, she had been trained extensively to exploit every opening and weakness she found... and she did.

Every attempt at a finishing blow left Flynn shaking with tension, no matter who aimed it at whom. Every strike stopped his heart for a second.

There was no winner in a fight like this.

"Stop it, both of you!"

His voice sounded less like a Commandant and more like a terrified spectator even to his own ears.

For what felt like the hundredth time, Yuri led Sodia through a fake series of parries until, in a flash almost too swift to follow, he spun his sword over his wrist to instantly reverse the grip. The unexpected backslash cut in at Sodia's undefended side. Like every other time, she was forced to break her offensive to block. Like every other time, Yuri kicked out at her to gain some distance, then tried to break away.

Elis was already disappearing up the mountain and had almost reached the town. She had walked the entire distance, and the frustration of that had made Yuri take this risk over and over again.

Sodia nearly hamstrung him this time, a short swipe at his calves that he only barely leapt over. He landed poorly and stumbled, forced to turn before she sunk her blade in his back.

Flynn drove himself forward, one step at a time until his feet moved from a hesitant shuffle to a run. Yuri's frustration was building to breaking point. Sodia's wracking sobs had turned into the gasps of the dangerously terrified.

"_I didn't want to_! _Forgive me!_" Sodia cried, voice cracking maniacally. And with the incongruity of the truly mad, she sheared her sword in at Yuri's neck. Flynn crashed between them awkwardly, missing her blade with his shield entirely and taking it on his shoulder-guard instead. A hair's breadth higher and she'd have taken his head off.

"Dammit Flynn, she's _your _damn problem! Do something!" Yuri snapped, shockingly spiteful.

"She's not herself!" Flynn shouted back, using his sword to lever hers away from his neck. Sodia had frozen again, unseeing eyes wet and erratic. In a firmer voice, he added, "Just... Just let me talk to her."

"Does she look like she can hear you?" Yuri demanded, falling back a step now that a body was between him and his assailant. The simple retreat made Sodia cry out as if he'd cut her, and Flynn had to brace against her sudden, desperate shove. Her sword slid past his shoulder and swatted, futilely, at the empty space that stretched between them and Yuri.

She was close enough now that Flynn heard the whimper that rattled every gasp. She was close enough for him to see guilt under her terror.

"Yuri," Flynn said quietly, watching her wet lashes flutter when his breath hit her wide eyes, "don't move... Give me a minute."

"We don't _have _a minute-"

"Please."

Sodia trembled, completely unaware that Flynn had eased his shield under her off-hand and was gently shifting it away from the dagger at her belt. He lifted his other elbow, forcing her sword arm upwards, then as slowly as he could manage, Flynn took a single step forward.

She wasn't tall enough to see over his armour. Sodia gave a surprised little jerk when she lost sight of Yuri, but all she could do was furiously blink her eyes as if the tears had blinded her to him. Her shoulders drooped in tense little measures. Her breathing slowed.

"It's alright, Lieutenant. That was good work. Weapons down, now. At ease."

He wasn't even sure if she could hear him, but maybe the tone was enough. Sodia was so close now that her nose hovered over the emblem on his chest. Flynn watched her pallid, slick face shift through various expressions of confusion. Her sword lolled in her grip suddenly.

"Flynn?"

Yuri's voice had made her flinch.

"Quiet, not now," Flynn murmured.

Her fingers still clung tenuously to the grip. He wondered if, with a sharp enough bump of the shoulder, he could jostle the weapon from her hands...

"Flynn."

"I said not n-"

"_Flynn!_"

Flynn turned his head angrily, mouth already opening to berate his friend's terrible timing.

The words died on his lips.

Something was happening to Brave Vesperia. The slim finger of mana from Temza's peak was fading, outshone and humbled by the blinding light that gathered at the star's core. The sky rippled as the light built, like staring through the heat haze and into a ferociously over-stoked furnace.

There was no sound when the light surged directly down in a broad of column of white. It was surreally still as it sank into the valley as if the earth didn't exist.

It was so tranquil that Flynn didn't quite understand what he was seeing until the ground began to quake under his feet. The light was so intense that his eyes burned, watered, then blurred.

And when he blinked, clearing his vision, he was struck with the sudden realisation that in that heartbeat, the light had gotten _closer_.

He blinked again and yes, it had moved, filling most of the sky, carving up the mountainside, bringing with it a noise unlike anything Flynn had ever heard in his life.  
The air was screaming as it was torn asunder. The mountain groaned as it was cut and cauterised in two.

And then suddenly there was no more sky, just light, and Flynn watched the edge of the clearing get swallowed up and seared away as if it had never been.

.  
_oOo_  
.

"_Stop-stop-stop-shut it off!"_

Rita's voice could barely be heard over the shriek of pure mana. It took aeons before each syllable slammed into place; the column of energy stuttered like a failing torch, eventually winking out altogether. Estelle blinked its afterimage from her retinas. The thrum had been so deep that everything felt unreal in its absence, hollow and light enough to drift away. Eventually, through the paper-thin atmosphere, she heard the clink of cooling stone.

The cleanest, neatest trench ever created had been soldered all the way up Temza's side, a deep, black canyon that warped under the shimmering heat wave.

… _**Sorry,**_ Ragnus said, _**I expect that was the docking beam. **_

"That's it?" Rita snapped, fingers rubbing at her temples. "You don't have anything else to land with?"

_**That was**__** all I needed.**_

The mage closed her eyes, deep in thought. "… So Vesperia was meant to lock on and dock with Zaudé, okay… But the facility was destroyed by Alexei, so there's nothing to dock _to_. If that's all you have... Vesperia's going to flatten one half of Terca Lumereis if you don't stop its descent."

_**It appears that way**__**, **_was all the entelexeia had to say.

"There's no other way. You have to go back," Rita said finally, dragging her goggles down like a surgeon would pull on some gloves. She said it with such decisiveness that it took a few seconds for her meaning to fully sink in.

Estelle gasped.

"But you can't!" she burst out, horrified.

Ragnus had nothing to say to that, but the formula on the transmitter continued to scroll on as if he was stewing over those words. Estelle almost envied the poor creature his apathy. Ever since reading the records at Zaudé, she had harboured a secret hope that Yuri had been right all along: that the history of Brave Vesperia was the imaginings of some over-enthusiastic historian. That this was all just fantasy. That all they were stopping was a dead blastia in the sky.

She wasn't sure she was capable of leaving a living creature alone to wait out eternity, trapped and forgotten again.

"There has to be another way," she whispered, hating herself.

"There isn't," Rita replied curtly. To the transmitter, she asked, "So help me out here, I've never seen a blastia like this before and I don't know how it functions. Reverse thrusters, inertia dampeners… You have to have _something _to cancel out Vesperia's descent vector."

_**I'm not sure.**__** Give me a moment…**_

The silence was a tense one. The formula on Rita's screen scrolled faster and faster, chasing one line after the other in a stream of symbols. Up above, Vesperia bristled weirdly. The blastia was made larger when every plate of it spread outwards like stretched wings. It erupted into flame instantly, catching the cusp of the sky flat and grinding down to an almost halt. The clouds shot away like startled fishes; the shock wave struck the mountain five seconds later, causing a deep rumble that made Estelle cry out. Rita hadn't even paused in her furious typing.

"-ifteen… twelve… eleven… Ten percent," the mage muttered. "Ten percent." She turned her face upwards and Vesperia trembled like a kite in the red reflection of her goggle lenses. "… No good, it's still descending."

_**I can't stretch any further, **_Ragnus apologised in a strained voice.

"What does this mean? We're too late?" Estelle blurted out, horrified.

"… No use thinking about that. We've bought ourselves some time," Rita eventually said. "Time's good. We can use time. A few hours, maybe. That's if the blastia can hold out against the strain of re-entry, but I'm sure I can think of a way of minimising the - wait, what did you say?"

"We're… too late?" Estelle mumbled, frightened of the avid look on Rita's face. But the mage merely flapped a hand at her and hunkered down lower, as if crouching over the transmitter would bring her closer to the blastia above.

"_What did you say?" _she repeated sharply.

… _**I am as wide as I can go, **_Ragnus said through his obvious efforts.

Rita let out a shaky laugh.

"That," she said, eyes burning with enthusiasm, "is what I thought you said."

.  
_oOo_  
.

The world was an agitated buzz, a poorly sketched image that scribbled itself uncomfortably under Flynn's watering gaze. He was winded, but couldn't hear his own breathing. He was alive, but couldn't feel his own heartbeat. There was a slip of warmth in his arms that began to struggle against him; he absently felt it worm away from him and let dusty, hot air fill the hollow left behind.  
Flynn didn't piece together the past few moments until a plated boot crunched down on his hand.

He lurched up and made a grab for Sodia – she was already staggering away from him – and he swore when his flagging coordination made him miss.

Vesperia's light had surged straight for them. Flynn had lost Yuri in the glare, but he'd tackled Sodia aside in time. Looking over the clearing now, he realised just how closely they'd come to death.

There was a blackened lesion cut straight across the rock, two body span's wide and so deep that it moaned in the wind. There was no rubble. Whatever the light had been, it had been so hot that it had erased the ground completely from existence.  
And over the other side of its yawning cavity, Yuri picked himself up and stared at the damage in dazed wonder.

Their eyes met over the divide.

Flynn forced himself to his feet with a hiss, vaguely aware of Witcher tugging at his elbow and babbling something in his ear. Everything ached. Every patch of skin not covered by uniform felt sunburnt. With a horrible shudder, Flynn noticed that a good length of his cloak had simply been seared away.

A cry split the warping air.

Sodia stood at the lip of the chasm, not seeing the drop, not seeing the still super-heated edge of molten stone, not seeing anything but the singed and dishevelled swordsman across the gap.

"SODIA!" Flynn shouted, but he was already running. Witcher made a small noise of dismay as he began to follow. Their delirious comrade had set one foot on the searing rock by the time Flynn reached her; he could already smell the leather burning when he shot a hand forward, hooked it in the back of her collar and _pulled._

Sodia crashed into his front with a heavy _whud. _Already uncoordinated, off balance and exhausted, Flynn's knees buckled under the blow and he toppled backwards with her. Witcher offered half a second of resistance before their combined weight knocked him down too.

They struck the earth together and crumpled there with finality.

Sodia wept. She quaked horribly now, as spent as they were, too weak to continue. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably when he locked her against his chest, pinning both of her arms to her sides with one of his just in case. She didn't resist. Flynn was still trying to catch his breath when he weakly struggled to sit up; he eventually curled up just enough to stay there and, tiredly, he tucked her head under his chin.

Her tears were uncomfortably hot against his burnt skin, but suddenly he was too exhausted to care.

Witcher was next. He scrambled out from under them with a miserable groan and Flynn fumbled his spare hand over to grip the lad on the shoulder again. He was only mildly surprised when the mage crawled over and forced himself closer to get his own arm around Sodia as well.  
They caught their breath in the hot, sizzling air collectively.

Sodia's sword was at their feet. She'd finally dropped it. Arms full and occupied, Flynn sucked in one final, steeling breath before skidding a foot out and sending the thing sliding.

It slithered over the edge of the cooling fissure and dropped away forever.

"I-I-I'm _sorry_," Sodia was burbling against his chest. Flynn gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"I should have been more careful, Commandant, I just-" Witcher moaned into his shoulder. Flynn gave him another pat on the shoulder.

When he looked up, he found Yuri still standing there, staring at them. He looked so small and distant with that black canyon between them and the mountain at his back. Flynn savoured his caught breath and watched blearily as Yuri carefully bent and retrieved his dropped sword.

The swordsman straightened slowly. He stared at the naked blade for a long moment before reluctantly lifting his eyes. They stared at one another until everything was clear.

And Flynn nodded.

He watched Yuri walk away until the heat had smudged and erased him from sight. He continued to watch until his eyes watered and it was impossible to see anything at all.

"Good luck, Yuri Lowell," he murmured under his breath, then forced himself to close his eyes.

Who knew that _trust_ was so difficult?

.  
_oOo_  
.

Rita was on her feet and pacing.

Estelle watched her do it, anxious and patient, all in one. She was having trouble keeping up with the words spilling from her best friend's lips, but she knew better than to distract the mage when she was in these moods.

"-no wonder I didn't recognise the formula, it's a variant of the Rizomata formula. A process that balances any flux with life force – like the Old Man's heart – which means that the majority of the blastia is organic! Hardly any shell at all! That's perfect!"

"I see," said Estelle, even though she didn't.

"It _means_," Rita said impatiently, "that Brave Vesperia is more entelexeia than blastia. _They're the same thing._"

… And it did look organic, like an elegant hand pressed flat against the curve of the planet. Estelle squinted through the rumbling flame to see, but the silhouette betrayed nothing.

"The trouble is that I… I _know_ it will work in good conditions, but these aren't good conditions," Rita said. "There's just us." She reached the half-collapsed wall of one building, gave the crumbling stone a kick, then turned and strode on back. "But this is our best bet. All or nothing. It'll either work, or it won't."

"Rita?"

Rita hooked a thumb under her goggles and lifted them from her eyes. The familiar teal was hard and uncompromising. The look didn't soften in the least when they fell on Estelle. It wasn't a soft gaze. It was hard and _bright_. Estelle found herself rising to her feet, heart hammering.

"The problem is Vesperia's size. Something that large is going to breach atmosphere whether we slow it down or not. We can't stop that from happening," Rita said decisively, hands on her hips. But then a grin happened, reckless and brilliant and marvellous. "But in _pieces_, the blastia will burn up long before it reaches land… Problem solved."

_**In pieces**__**, **_Ragnus managed, voice shaking as much as the ground beneath them.

"B-But _how_?" was all Estelle could think to ask. The answer shook her to the core.

"We're going to convert him. Entelexeia to Spirit. Without his network, the facility is going to fall apart. Terca Lumereis should do the rest."

And as Estelle tried to wrap her head around it all, Rita turned her face upwards and, almost lost in the red glow, she gave a small wince.

"… But it's your decision," she muttered quietly. "It's just us, and I'm going to be drawing from your formula a _lot_ and… well, with no one else around to stabilise…"

The full levity sank in. Estelle lowered her eyes to her gloves.

… It was the perfect solution. It was a way to save everyone. Ragnus wouldn't have to spend eternity alone because of the mistakes of others. Terca Lumereis could be spared. The Child of the Full Moon would finally, after a lifetime of being nothing more than a herald of disaster, be of use to _someone_… But Estelle had never converted a spirit without help before. She always had Yuri and Karol and Judith and Raven suffering right along beside her, and even then, the process had drained her down to the last shreds of her energy every time. Alone, she wondered vaguely how long she would last.

In a surprisingly moment of clarity, Estelle found that she didn't care.

She'd never wanted something more in her life.

"I want to do it," Estelle said firmly, fist pressed down tight over her heart. Half a second later, and she amended, "I _will _do it. I'll save everyone."

Rita was smirking as if she'd been expecting nothing less. The expression was bursting with pride and arrogance, the most powerful thing Estelle had ever seen. The mage gave her own hair a ruffle, a short shake to dislodge doubt, then tossed a superior look over her shoulder at the small whirring machine set against the ancient cobbles.

"You hear that?" she asked the transmitter with a grin. She lifted her chin arrogantly before adding, "Looks like you're coming home after all."

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not dead!  
For those who hadn't wandered over to my profile to check where I was, I've been out of action due to my company liquidating. It was a horrible, horrible series of months. Hopefully that's the end of that.**

**It's been so long since I sat down and actually _wrote _that I'm quite convinced this chapter is a puddle of dog vomit. The jumping timeline was ambitious to begin with, so who knows how it came out... Fretting author would like know!**

**Finally, thank you everyone for your insanely kind words and reviews despite my absence. You made a bleak time much, much brighter.**


	25. Balance

**25: Balance**

.  
_oOo_  
.

They say your life flashes before your eyes just before you die.

It turned out to be a terrible lie. Shock made it hard to see _anything_; Karol's view was a cacophony of feathers, rock and sky all blurred together, a snapshot of free-fall that seemed to loop on forever. He wished the view had have been better. He wished he didn't have to share it.

Jerard swore the whole way down, furious and spitting and thrashing. He wasn't strong enough to free himself of the grapple-hold Karol had him in, so he just cursed instead, only breaking his stream of profanities to shriek out his brother's name.

Izuna, just as frantic, was all around them. His wingtips carving through their vision like scythes, claws hovering nearby before dipping away again. With the mountain screaming by on their right, the few seconds it took the entelexeia to align himself were the longest, most chaotic seconds of Karol's life. But then the claws sheared in and squeezed.  
They bit in uncomfortably around his ribs and thighs, just shy of hurting because Jerard was there too, mashed up against Karol's front. With an ear-popping _thwump_, they went from free-fall to tumble as the entelexeia struggled desperately to pull up. It wasn't a graceful rescue. The entelexeia fought gravity every inch they plummeted, and every beat of his wings simply forced them to twist against the wind as they fell.

Karol watched the attempt through the black bars of his enemy's claws. He watched as each desperate twist made the rushing landscape slow, counted every snap of feathers as if they marked the remaining seconds of his life. It wasn't until the sixth crack of wings that gravity finally snapped in half and Izuna burst free from the plummet. The colossal beast swung upright erratically, treading the shifting air like an exhausted hummingbird.

Jerard was heartily sick over Karol's shoulder. The guild-master wasn't much better; dizzy and dazed, he turned his eyes down and realised that they had only been seconds from hitting the plateau below.

And while he hung there like a ragdoll in the entelexeia's grip, he watched as something moved across the hard-packed earth below. It was hard keeping his vision clear when everything swayed and bobbed like a cork on the ocean... But then the shifting blob scattered and spread out. Karol's heart skipped when he recognised what it was he was looking at.

Soldiers, and a lot of them.

Izuna hadn't seen them. The creature was so busy shifting and flexing his talons over the bundle of friend and foe in his claws that he left himself completely undefended. He didn't see the wink of light on metal until it was too late.

The beast reared with a shocked snap, arrow lodged neatly in its scaled jugular and claws spread wide for purchase. Karol barely felt anything as he dropped away again. He saw the entelexeia whip its neck reflexively to the side just as Tison vaulted up from the surrounding rock and landed directly the beast's flat head, claws out and grin white and carnivorous. The image was brief; the free-fall quickly stole it all from view.

Karol stared at the receding sky past his trailing hands, numbed and battered by the gathering speed and, strangely enough, just too tired to care.

But then the air exploded from his lungs. Something softer than rock had struck his ribs and for one serene, surreal moment, Karol thought he was dead. It didn't occur to him until he was almost deafened by the tumble that it was too noisy to be death. There was a grunt in his ear and, beyond that, the sound of wind and rock and voices and flesh bouncing off rock. It thundered for a cluster of painful seconds, then suddenly everything went still.

Time made a shy return. It took a while for Karol's racing thoughts to do the same. The first thing to reach his senses was that the wind had been replaced with dust. Lots of dust. It clogged his nostrils and crusted his lips. That much dust could only mean one thing... He was on solid ground.  
Karol didn't even mind when that ground moved with a feeble shift and gave a heartfelt groan.

"... I'm gettin' too old fer this," the dusty earth wheezed. It moved once more under him with a strained quake, then gave up moving entirely. Karol laid there, lungs burning until enough neurons fired off to put two and two together.

"R-Raven?" he croaked at the sky.

"Th'one and only," came his friend's voice from underneath him. A hand gave his chest a reassuring pat and then dropped away to land on the ground with a defeated _whump_.

"I-I'm alive," Karol said dumbly.

"Speak fer yerself," was the weak reply. Belatedly, Karol rolled off of the familiar lump and moved just far enough away to try and stand. His knees threatened to give out and he managed a feeble wobble.

There was a pattering of soldiers around them looking utterly shocked. LeBlanc was among them, eyes darting between the entelexeia above and the prone shape of his commander laid out on the broken earth below. Eventually the lieutenant lumbered forward to help his Captain up, but Raven waved the man away with a weak flap of the hand.  
He heaved himself up as if every joint hurt.

"Fallin' from the sky... I tells ya, that just about took ten years off my life," he said to Karol with a wry grin. "And I ain't got _that _many years ta spare. Don't make a habit of it, will ya?"

There was nothing to say to that. Even if he had the words, the sudden surge of relief and gratitude was so powerful that it lodged in Karol's throat and squeezed the ability to speak away. His eyes began to prickle.  
As Raven gingerly dusted himself off, the guild master rubbed furiously at his face until the sensation went away.

He was trying to make his knees stop quivering like shaken jelly when the sound of furious coughing reached his ears. The dirty, dusty bundle not so far away swung suddenly onto its feet. Jerard wobbled in the same unstable way that Karol had, but he hadn't had a friend around to catch him; his face was locked in a pasty, furious scowl and there was blood spattered over his left temple.

The pompous krityan looked like a different man altogether with his slicked hair all mussed up and his expensive jacket torn and dirty. The wild look in his eyes had transformed his face into something chilling.

"You... You _bastard_," the record keeper snarled at him. "You filthy, stupid, _insane _little _heathen_."

Somewhere up above, Izuna gave an earsplitting screech of fury. Tison was probably enjoying himself.

"You think this has changed anything?" Jerard said next as if he hadn't heard it. He was so livid that he spat with each word. "That brainless little stunt did nothing! Do you think you're _clever_?"

The malice was like a hot, cutting wind. Karol wobbled backwards as if blown over, and he'd have lost his footing entirely if a hand hadn't dropped to his shoulder and pegged him soundly in place.  
Raven gave him a brief, steeling look before turning his eyes back to the spitting krityan.

Jerard was winching himself up by the rock face in measures, blood dripping from his chin and raging hatefully to himself.

"You've just left them undefended, you disgusting little cur! You think I was the only one up there? Hah! At least I'd have been quick about taking them out! _He's _going to have a freaking field day on their corpses! And where are you? Down here, you _stupid little bastard._ Who's going to protect your precious little princess and mage now?"

The hand on Karol's shoulder tightened suddenly.

"No," Karol wheezed, exhausted and at his wits end.

"T-That's what your martyrdom gets," Jerard croaked back, voice thin and stretched from raging himself hoarse. "You- You just... You just brought this on yourself."

"Leave them alone," Karol rasped back desperately. He winced when Jerard's spiteful laugh was echoed by another of his brother's deafening roars.

And then, as inexorably as the shift of continents, Karol felt himself guided firmly backwards.

"Sounds like your brother is havin' a hard time keepin' an eye on ya," Raven said conversationally as he slid himself in front of Karol, eyes closed and free hand rubbing at his neck lazily. He gave a lopsided shrug, way too casual, much too complacent considering that the entelexeia in question wasn't so far away.  
Despite that untroubled air, Karol gratefully shrunk behind his older friend's silhouette to try and get his breath back.

Jerard wiped the blood from his brow and shifted his glare.

"You look like a clever guy ta me," Raven continued nonchalantly. "Here ya are – all beat-up and on your own – with a platoon of armed and angry soldiers all around. Half of the battle is knowin' when ta quit, am I right? Maybe it's time ta think _real hard_ about your allegiances."

"H-How dare you-" Jerard snapped instantly.

"Think about it," Raven interrupted in a voice Karol hadn't heard before. He'd finally opened his eyes. And although Karol couldn't quite see, Jerard balked under the pinning gaze and fell back a step.  
With the mountainside at his shoulder-blades, there was nowhere to run. His eyes darted in both directions nervously; Izuna gave a startled screech as if only just realising his brother's dilemma, but the sound was distant. The record keeper licked his lips.

"Threats are pointless," he managed. "You can't stop Elis! Your friends are as good as dead!"

Raven lowered one hand to the folded transform bow at his belt. Jerard flattened himself against the rock behind him. Just as slowly, almost timidly, the krityan slid a hand into his jacket.

"Use yer head," Raven warned harshly. "You're out-numbered."

"I'll just have to rectify that," Jerard hissed back.

The record keeper shot a hand back and lit a match against the stone behind him. It sputtered in the dust, more like fireworks than flame for one unstable moment, but the fire clung tenaciously to life when he touched it to the dark shape pulled from his jacket.

The sound of fizzing filled the arid air.

"So let's try this again," Jerard managed, holding the bomb before him like a gift. It was a bundle of tubes bound by tape, and compared to the elaborate mechanisms Karol had seen him use, this one appeared archaic. Old-fashioned or not, the flame at the end of the wick sparked and spat threateningly. The soldiers all retracted as one.

"... Not clever, kid," Raven said softly, sounding a little disappointed.

"Shut up," Jerard snapped, edging his way along the rock face. "You have approximately as long as this wick burns to make your damn soldiers fall back. Down the mountainside, all of them. I mean it, back off."

"I'm not sure I can do that-"

"_I said back off_!" Jerard shrieked, unhinged.

There was a small pause where the only sound was the fizzing of the burning bomb.

When Raven lifted a hand and flapped it vaguely backwards, every single soldier retreated in a grateful rush of clanking armour and creaking leather. Karol didn't know if he should be retreating as well because LeBlanc just stood there, puffing up vaguely in righteous fury. Raven was unmoved, grimly regarding the beaten krityan not so far away.

Jerard swallowed thickly under their scrutiny and, balancing the bomb in one palm, shuffled along the mountainside as fast as his wobbling legs would allow. His crabwalk eventually took him to one of the broad paths leading out of the plateau. With a boneless stumble, he gratefully fell back into the open air and shot a look over his shoulder.  
Izuna landed awkwardly on the forking road a little distance behind him, feet slipping awkwardly in his haste. Tison was nowhere to be seen, but the entelexeia favoured his right wing when he attempted to fold it in the confined space. He was rumbling constantly now, a low and throaty snarl that made the air quiver.

The sound of it made Jerard's face crack into a lopsided smirk.

Karol could only watch the wick burn.

"There," Jerard sneered when he turned back, perfectly at ease with the meagre two inches of string left. "That's... That's more like it."

Raven didn't say a word.

Despite the limited seconds slipping away, Jerard took the time to eyeball Karol with an expression of pure malice. It was hard not to cringe. It was equally hard not to see the grudge there morph gradually into cold intent.  
Watching the record keeper retreat one casual step was like watching chaos slip back into order; the man straightened once in his own brother's shadow, once more the pompous announcer from the halls of Zaudé. With a conceited, smoothing brush of his hand over his hair, his attention slid back to Raven. He leered insolently as the wick began to spit its final sparks.

"Seems the tables have turned," Jerard said snidely. A little of that childish rage returned when he added, "Now you tell me, wise-ass… was it _clever _to stay within throwing distance?"

And he pulled back his arm.

The bomb was big and ungainly, but it didn't need to be a fantastic throw. Karol was too busy staring at the explosive in utter horror as it left Jerard's hand that he barely noticed the pair of shapes rise up from the mountainside.

They split the second they neared level ground; one skipped over the rocks strewn along the path like iced lightening, darting from one crag to another until it skidded to a halt on the path in the krityan's shadow.

Repede turned his head and seized the grip of his kunai with his teeth. He was gone again in an electric shift of blue.

The dog shot past Jerard low and too fast to follow, shearing to a halt and darting back again before the first burst of blood had erupted from the krityan's leg. In the half second it took for Jerard's ruined knee to give way, three more slashes had cut in over his arms and chest. The man dropped to the earth in a belated shower of injury. And as he knelt there completely stunned, Repede dropped from his slicing leap and landed squarely on the man's chest.

They stared at one another, nose to nose.

Repede leapt free in a somersault that was more sawmill than spin. Jerard's head snapped back in one final spray of blood, then his body hit the ground with puff of loose dust. It had taken just under two seconds. Karol gave a belated yelp when the canine landed neatly in front of him.

Repede spun his blade expertly over his muzzle, then sheathed it with a final _shak_.

The bomb landed just behind him, wick cut cleanly through.

Down the distant path, Izuna shouldered into the rock with am agonised shriek. Karol hadn't even seen the second figure in blue until the entelexeia had snapped a wing out defensively. Judith landed on the thick curve of feathers with her heel, kicking off and flipping to safety even as Izuna cut his spiked tail through the airspace she'd been in moments before.

Drunkenly, as if every joint and muscle worked against him, Izuna scrabbled up from the rockface and spread his wings. He was clearly disoriented. Judith was clearly merciless when she launched herself at him again, but Izuna drove both wings down in a deafening _whump_. She caught the air gust head-on and her leap was buffered flat.

There was nothing graceful about the laboured take-off. Judith had carved a sizable wedge out of the beast's spread feathers and it showed; with violent, wobbling strokes, the entelexeia was airborne like a puppet dangling from tangled strings.

Karol fell to his backside just as Izuna lifted up and away, giving them all one last vengeful screech before doggedly heading up the mountain. The rock and wispy clouds stole him from view, but his voice remained as a chilling echo.

Judith picked herself up from her forced landing and spun her spear around in a glinting pattern. She didn't even cast her friends a single glance before launching herself after the beast, scaling the rock-face in an impossible series of leaps.

And as suddenly as it had all happened, it was over. The clearing was eerily calm in that shocked handful of seconds, the only sound being LeBlanc's frantic scuffing as he worried at the defused bomb with one plated boot, kicking it away from the detached wick. Repede, meanwhile, watched the sheer-rock face that Judith had just disappeared up speculatively.  
He gave a resigned huff and sat back on his haunches.

Karol clutched at his chest as his heart pounded against every one of his aching ribs.

"… too old fer this," was all Raven could say. With a beleaguered look at the canine by their feet, he added, "You were cuttin' it kinda close there, Pooch... Uh, not that I'm complainin', mind."  
Repede huffed dismissively and turned his head aside.

The soldiers had edged back into the clearing slowly, a medic advancing on Jerard's still form by the exit. Karol watched him do it, jaw slack and every bone trembling. His knees stubbornly refused to work even when LeBlanc heaved him awkwardly upright, so he was forced to hang from the lieutenant's shoulder like an oversized bag. His own kit bag slid from his arm and hit the dirt heavily; for the first time in many, many years, it was simply too heavy to carry.

The silence was so thick that it almost felt guilty.

"That's one down," Raven muttered with no small amount of resignation. He glanced around the scene with a harried look. "Is everyone ok? We're all good? No injuries?" The cluster of guildsmen and soldiers all stared back blankly, too overwhelmed to answer. The First Captain then turned to LeBlanc. "How 'bout you?"

"Sir! Yessir! Fit as a fiddle, sir!" LeBlanc barked, snapping a salute that Karol had to duck from. Satisfied with that, Raven reached out and gripped Karol's shoulder for the second time.

"How 'bout you, kid? You hurt?"

"I-I'm fine. I think," Karol managed. "Uh, thanks for catching me. I-I fell pretty far... I... I thought I was a goner for sure."

Raven nodded grimly, sympathetically.

"Good, good," was all he murmured.

And then, with his fingers tightening almost painfully over Karol's collarbone, the archer leant in and pinned him with a severe look.

"... Now _what_," he said in a low, anxious voice, "was that guy sayin' about Rita n' Estelle?"

.  
_oOo_  
.

Estelle shivered in the darkness.

It was the place of spirits, the extra layer over the world that only she knew about... She had never realised just how much she'd come to rely on her friends until she found herself back in that void, alone.

Her companions had been lighthouses in the dark. Beacons in the blackness to remind her where the real world was under that skin of darkness. They weren't here now, so Estelle was forced to dig her toe into the hard-packed earth and remind _herself _that the world existed. Gnome pressed his shoulder against her knee silently, another earthy reminder. The dirt under her feet echoed out gently, painting in more of Temza's mountain top than she could rightly know about. He helped ground her. She gratefully dropped her fingertips to the spirit's head.

The spirits were reconvening. Estelle shyly stood among them in the darkness, a bland and forgetful waif amongst the divine.

**This is very dangerous, **Undine was saying curtly.

**Not even we know what will happen if it goes wrong! **Sylph chirped, her smile at odds with her words.

_**Yes, that does sound dangerous, **_Ragnus' voice replied in that vague way of his.

Estelle winced.

**What do you expect will be left of you if the Child of the Full Moon perishes half way through your conversion? **Ifrit demanded hotly. He sounded angrier than usual to Estelle, and she leaned away from the steadily building waves of heat emanating from the spirit. There was a thoughtful pause.

_**I don't suppose much would be left at all, **_Ragnus decided calmly.

There was a surge of vengeful heat. Estelle leaned further back. Ifrit expanded like an unbanked forest fire, but Undine raised a hand and her companion let out one short burst of flame to vent out his frustrations. It was a curious display. Ragnus' apathy had initially confused her, but it was clearly insulting and infuriating the Spirit of Fire. Undine had more grace and patience. Gently, as if speaking to a child, the spirit said,

**We're asking you for an alternative. Both you and the Child of the Full Moon are precious to us. The less put in jeopardy the better.**

_**I have no alternative, **_Ragnus replied. It was the closest to a decision they were able to drag from him. Ifrit let out a growl that promised combustion, and Sylph giggled at the whole conversation with an impish shrug.

Estelle gnawed her lip and turned her eyes to Undine.

"H-He's been like this since we patched through," she whispered apologetically. Undine smiled tightly at that, eyes far too knowing.

**An eternity is a long time to have spent alone with ones thoughts, **she replied darkly. **I suppose we must consider ourselves lucky the **_**damage **_**is minimal. I confess I was expecting a madman. **Estelle heard bitterness in the spirit's voice, and for the umpteenth time that morning, she had to fight down the wave of guilt. Ragnus hadn't deserved this fate.

**If he does not care, then the decision is made, **Ifrit suddenly decided, impatient. He swung around to face Estelle and she had to fight the urge to back away. **Are you prepared? We cannot help you with this. I have my doubts that you are strong enough to withstand the process... But you have to be! Everything rests on your ability to reconstruct this wretch!**

Perhaps he had meant it to be encouraging. Estelle swallowed past the leaden weight lodged in her throat and nodded, terrified. Sylph swung playfully by her ear and blew a fresh wind through her hair.

**I'll be cheering for you! **she offered brightly.

**We need your power to use our own, **Undine said suddenly, grimly. **You won't be in a position to give us any, so our influence here will be limited. Minor miracles at best. We'll... do what little we can.**

"Thank you," Estelle replied earnestly. "You've all been so kind to me."

Ifrit scoffed, but he gave her an awkward and curt nod before leaving in a pulse of fire. The other spirits were just as silent when they left one after another. Eventually the only light left in the void was a blue one, and Undine lingered with a gentle smile at her lips. She spoke for all of them when she said,

**Be safe****.**

And then she burst like a bubble of sea-foam, taking the blackness of the spirit realm with her.

Estelle found herself back on the mountaintop once more. Rita was waiting, on her feet with her research panel reopened before her.

"Did they have anything useful to say?" the mage asked shortly.

"Um, I hope so," Estelle replied honestly, nervously pressing both hands to her stomach to quell the butterflies there. They fluttered against the pressure, not settling in the least.

"Figures," Rita muttered.

The mage began typing. Estelle listened nervously until she felt the first familiar pull on her senses. Her internal formula stirred when it was accessed. A moment later, and Estelle shivered when she felt the dull tug at her core as Ragnus was keyed in as well.

It was a new take on an old experience. She and her distant companion were like paper-cups attached by string, slowly pulled apart just to make their connection taut. And when the tension was just right, Ragnus looked down the length of that line and, seemingly for the first time, truly saw her.

"Ready?" Rita suddenly asked.

_No, _Estelle's stomach said.

"Yes," her heart corrected.

_**I... I'm ready, **_Ragnus managed, voice laced with emotion for the first time.

He sounded shocked.

If Estelle had have been expecting a warning or a count-down, she didn't get it. Abruptly, catching her completely off guard, Rita started the conversion with a tap of her thumb.

Violence happened. Time shattered along with the mountaintop, digging their jagged shards in deep and cutting.

It tore at her. It clawed at the cavity in her chest where the formula resided, turning her heart and ribs and memories and feelings into ragged, bloody streamers in its bid to get at it. Shreds of her flapped at the edges of the vacuum, slapping painfully against it. Her spine screamed as it arched towards the suction, her thoughts had long since been snatched up and torn away... And still it sucked and heaved and pulled.

The violence gave way as abruptly as it started. Ragnus had pulled back on his end, drawing the line taut again and winching the whirring conversion steadily down their connection and away from her. The momentary relief felt hollow. As her pain lessened, his increased.

Estelle could feel it. She could feel him. She was aware of every numb, frozen, static inch of the entelexeia's heart and, as he determinedly pulled the violence away from her, suddenly Undine's words made sense. Estelle had never seen anything like it. Here was a mind that, to save itself, had simply _stopped. _Ragnus was as still and unmoving as an iceberg.

But there was no mistaking the fear and concern that sprung from the emotionless haze. Fear and concern for _her_. Seeing those shy emotions was like watching new spring buds rise from a layer of melting snow. Estelle watched on in awe as Ragnus woke up.

Without meaning to, she let him pull on the formula too much and then all she could sense from him was agony.

Instinctively, she tugged back.

The core of the conversion was a maelstrom between them, ravaging whatever it drew closer to. Shaking in fear of it, Estelle focused entirely on giving just enough of herself to keep it directly between them. Past the chewing formula, Ragnus came to the same understanding and did the same.

They spent miniature eternities balancing their connection.

"That... that was close," came a familiar voice.

The mountaintop returned then, barely an afterthought, and Estelle tried very hard to divide her attention.

"L-Let's not do that again," Rita added, and at some point in the chaos, she had split her research panel into three. They hovered around her like shields and made the sweat on her brow glint orange. "H-how are you holding up? Both of you?"

Estelle felt a small spark of humour from Ragnus – the concern delighted and amused him – and she pieced together the concentration required to nod. She was just beginning to get used to the push-pull on her heart, but even a minor dip in concentration made the conversion swing erratically between them. It occurred to her that this had been her friends' job. They had been the balance, the taut framework to keep the conversion precisely where it should be.

She'd never appreciated them more than she did in that moment.

"Good," Rita muttered. "This is good, just... just keep that up. I don't have the power output to go any faster than this, so you'll have to hang in there."

Another nod.

And then Estelle felt a prickling by her ear.

Ragnus curiously peered past her to see. She read the surprise from him and, making sure the conversion was perfectly secure, she shifted her attention to the side to see what had caught his attention.

Volt was like an echo, almost there but not quite. His fierce eyes met hers.

_Move, _he whispered.

A sharp jolt raced down one leg, and Estelle's body lurched to the side without her consent. Something too quick to see whistled through the space she'd just occupied. Wrenching her knee back into her own control was harder than it should have been; Estelle shifted like a poorly orchestrated marionette when she straightened, infinitely aware that Volt's fingers were plucking at her nerves like a puppeteer.

She blinked her buzzing eyes.

Someone had barrelled into Rita. The mage stared down at the figure, one hand still hovering over her keys and eyes wide in pure shock. Her lips parted slowly.

"Huh," she managed softly.

It wasn't until the figure tossed an acidic look over his shoulder that Estelle recognised him... Waylin snarled at her hatefully.

"Nice dodge," was all he said. He straightened suddenly and gave Rita a dismissive shove with a gauntlet that glistened red; the mage fell away from him awkwardly, eyes still wide, heels scuffing and tripping over the rocks.

She couldn't right herself. Her stagger only stopped when her back struck one of ruined buildings. She slumped against the wall with one hand pressed to her side.

Blood bloomed between her fingers in a sudden flood, burgundy against her red clothes, black against her white skin. She eased herself down the wall with a disgusted grimace and a great swatch of red was left in her wake.

Ragnus reeled under the wave of horror that surged down the connection; the conversion was struck from his grip and it tore like a tempest between them, unchecked.

Somewhere past the careening chaos, Waylin drank in every tortured line of Estelle's expression and grinned maliciously.

"_Now _you're paying attention," he murmured. "Come."

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: One villain down, three to go!  
So me and Plot Hole got into a cage match over this chapter and it was a messy, agonising battle. I think I won, but only just. I expect the scars from the scuffle are still present, but shh. Just let it happen. I promise to be more careful with my planning in the future.**

**Thanks to my old readers and new ones alike. I'm glad there's a space in this section for overly complex epics like mine, and I hope I can finish this fic to everyone's satisfaction! We're nearing the finish line! Thank you very, very much for all your reviews, and here's to Repede being a _ninja_.**


	26. Minor Miracles

**26: Minor Miracles**

.  
_oOo_  
.

Sometime later, minor miracles began to happen.

Raven was silently begging for one, only mid-way up Mount Temza and standing at yet another crossroads.

It was another knot in the tangled mess of game-trails and ancient pathways; he hunkered down at the edge of the junction and ran his hand over his chin in frustration. Panic reared its ugly head for what felt like the umpteenth time in the past hour, but Raven forced it down once more and slowly brought his fingertips to the dirt before him. He was hoping for a footprint, an old piece of cobble, any indication at all that this road would take him to the mountaintop and not in a looping, convoluted trek to nowhere.

There was none. Just the scars of erosion, a rusted helmet from a regiment Raven could only vaguely remember and the settled remnants of an old landslide.

He was only midway up the mountain. He needed to be at the peak.

"C'mon, throw me a bone," Raven breathed through another wave of panic, dusting his hands off and peering around the landscape.

He'd left the others behind some time ago. The decision wasn't entirely his. With Karol swamped by the medics and Repede sullenly standing guard nearby, LeBlanc had been the only one still paying attention to his Commander. He'd taken one look at Raven's face and had twitched his moustache into that tiny little smile of his.

"_Permission to speak, First Captain sir!" _he had said. "_With the enemy line contained and the perimeter secure, it would be diligent for Commanding Officer to divide his attentions, sir! Turn his eyes to the next battle, so to speak! Why, a temporary CO could clean up this rabble with ease. In fact, if I may be so bold, I would consider it a _waste_ of the First Captain's time to contend with the stragglers! Those are my two-cents! Sir!"_

Raven still remembered the persuasive little push LeBlanc had given him. He still remembered how, with only half a second of hesitation and a grateful grin, he'd taken to the nearest path upwards at a run. Three crossroads and a landslide later, Raven began to worry that the kind gesture was wasted.

He touched a hand to his Blast Heart. It was fizzing more than usual, lancing at fingertips with miniature forked tongues of electricity. A small part of him knew he should be worried about it, but he had enough to worry about already.

It was pretty stupid to be this concerned about the world's most fearsome mage. She'd be the first one to say as much. Rita Mordio was one of the most capable human beings on the planet. She was not someone that floundered. She was not someone who fell to pieces under pressure, and when it came down to it, Raven wasn't sure he'd ever seen her truly fail in all the years he'd known her.  
But he _had_ seen the way her hands could shake. He had seen how doubt could make her shoulders hunch, or the way her eyelids fluttered when she couldn't meet his eyes. Without really intending to, she had shown him her weakness.

Despite her efforts to prove otherwise, Rita Mordio was human.

She was just as capable of dying as the next strong woman.

"She can hit me for it later," Raven muttered hopefully to himself, then chose an exit at random. He'd just have to hope for a miracle.

One happened the second his feet left the crossroads.

A single stone peeled itself from the settled landslide and clattered down past his boots, moving for the first time in decades. Raven watched it do so, following each tumble and bounce as it rolled past him and to the opposite edge of the crossroads. It came to a halt at the paws of a vaguely familiar shape.

It was barely there, like a mirage. When Raven's eyes shot up to see what had snuck up on him so, all he saw was a clump of rock and the barren skeleton of a bush behind it. With a stretch of the imagination, it _might_have resembled a beast... With a relieved sigh, Raven let his gaze shift.  
The strange creature stood there one more, still as an obelisk as it patiently watched him.

The illusion continued no matter how many times Raven tried to focus his eyes. He found himself keeping it in the corner of his eye in surrogate, faintly disturbed when the vaguely familiar creature began to move towards a small cave half hidden by the rock. Once there, that earthy, silent beast turned back and patiently watched him once more.

Raven rubbed at his sparking blastia again and weighed his options. While he deliberated, another stone rolled free of the landslide and bounced off the heel of his boot.

It was either a sign, or he was going senile.

"Alright, alright," he sighed, bending to retrieve the course little rock, "even this old man can take a hint."

And Raven gave the sharp pebble a small squeeze. Senile or not, he'd been begging for a little help and he wasn't likely to turn it down now that it had shown up. And with a fatalistic sigh, he shrugged, grinned, then made his way after the barely-there silhouette.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Judith recognised her miracle the second that it appeared, because it happened in a space that she'd been focusing on obsessively.

The sky was a cumbersome, hollow, broken thing to her. Never before had it been something she had to pay such attention to, something to consider and approach with caution. It had always been the final piece to the complete puzzle that had been _theirs, _the silent third companion. She had owned it once, just as he had owned it.

It had been _theirs._

The sky was a stranger now, almost familiar, mostly foreign. Judith plunged through it feeling numb and blind as she struggled to keep up with Izuna's drunken retreat. A dip in air-pressure, a pocket of warmth, a sudden wind-change... For how many years had she taken advantage of these things, knowing them intimately because _he _had been with her, mapping the skies for her as she leapt through it, intrinsically knowing what to expect next.  
The smallest things, once inconsequential, were now obstacles and dangers that she constantly had to adjust to.

Izuna struggled for his own reasons, damaged wings beating awkwardly against the swirling airflow around the mountain. The clipped feathers were only part of the reason, Judith knew. The entelexeia's eyes rolled madly, very rarely seeing her. He shouldered into the rock as if he hadn't even realised it was there, then scrabbled at it belatedly to get some extra height.

He acted as if he were blind.

Judith knew the feeling.

She wondered if Izuna still felt Jerard like she still felt Ba'ul. Her dearest companion was like a swollen weight at the very basin of his heart. She hadn't been expecting that. A wound, perhaps. A yawning gap, maybe. A Ba'ul shaped hole that ached and stung when blood pumped through, but this heavy burden? She still felt him as a sunken lump at the lowest depths of her heart, not quite the buoyant presence he had once been... but still there. Judith felt like the extra weight was what dragged at her every leap. For some reason, she still carried Ba'ul like a ball-and-chain, agonised that he hadn't simply disappeared, possessive and obsessive of what remained.

Some dark, sharp part of her that she'd never known existed was glad for it. It was pleased that Ba'ul would be with her when she took revenge on his behalf, that his weight would be behind the final blow.

If only she could _catch __up_.

Judith recognised her miracle the instant that it happened. It parted for her when she forced her aching legs to launch her higher, and it slipped through her hair and over her skin. It built as pressure for a curious moment before surging upwards; Judith's laboured leap became a soar.

The wind moved with her like the flow of a river. It bunched to soften her landing on the nearest crag of rock, then swirled around her ready for the next jump.

Long strands of her hair had begun to tug free of her bun; they whipped at her cheeks and forehead as she stared at Izuna's retreating bulk through the shifting blue, calculating her next move. She found it, then crouched low.

"Thank you," Judith said softly, earnestly.

She heard an answering giggle when she burst upwards, fleet on the silent wings of the sky.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Karol mistook his miracle several times, seeing them everywhere in his confused daze when he followed Repede back down the mountain.

Finding Tison through sheer accident was the first stroke of luck. He was half hidden behind a boulder, and they'd never have found him if not for the wind changing and bringing the sound of his swearing closer. It was remarkable that his tangle with the entelexeia hadn't done more damage than the deep gash over his forearm, and Karol told him as much.

"Shut it, pipsqueak! Dammit, I nearly had it," Tison spat, completely ignoring the blood spatter when he flung out the injured arm in tantrum. Karol was too tired to deal with the hunter's particular brand of thuggery, so he and Repede had simply tugged and eased him down from the rock to join the others.

The soldiers had been divided and positioned over the foothills in tiny groups. Each team seemed too small to do much good... but every time they passed one, Karol noticed that the soldiers were all hale and uninjured, and the kritya that sat and knelt at their feet were all weaponless in surrender. Karol called it a miracle. LeBlanc called it a siege formation.

It wasn't until they'd reached the cratered base of Temza that the truly inexplicable happened.

Karol was watching Tison snarl like a wounded stray at a medic when he heard a soft _thup _from his right. The big rehydration flask from the medic's pack had somehow defied the blanket it had been propped in and overturned. Water poured out in a glugging flow, turning the baby-blue material the colour of cobalt as it soaked it through.  
Karol watched in surprise as, impossibly, a thin ribbon of liquid left the sodden bundle and wove its way through the rubble. It arced deliberately around his feet and pooled momentarily when it had their full attention. Repede rose to his paws when the slither of water wove past his tail and continued on down the mountain. Karol found himself moving hesitantly after it.

If anyone had have asked him what he was doing, Karol wouldn't have been able to explain. It was hard to see that snake of liquid as _just _water by how it moved over the landscape. It wasn't until they neared a familiar crater that Karol's heart began to beat faster.

The _Esprit _was a broken shape a little way to their right, wedged into a fissure. Its huge metal tethers snaked out from it like the tentacles of a beached squid, shining dully as the very last layer of dust began to settle. The only thing attached to them was the battered _Esprit_. They coiled over the empty basin in big, tangled loops.

Karol's brain refused to work over this little fact, but he found himself reaching blindly down until his suddenly quaking fingers found Repede's collar anyway.

The dog's shoulder-blades shifted against his knuckles. It wasn't a crater. It wasn't even a scar from the Great War, like the many of the pocked imperfections on Temza's face. It looked vaguely familiar. The water gathered at the edge of the basin and rolled over. It snaked its way down the strangely corrugated face of the hollow and Repede obediently moved forward, dragging the numb and reluctant Karol with him.

And as the last of the dust began to fade, it was easier to see the person-sized bundle in the centre of the enormous crevasse. Karol couldn't drag his eyes from it as he skid and slithered his way after the trickle of water. He couldn't stop himself from edging closer when the liquid finally reached the still lump and pooled gently around its base.

Karol couldn't breathe when, after a pregnant pause, the shape gave a deep groan and shifted.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Yuri was long past seeing anything.

The first ruin to rise from the mountaintop was barely more than a footprint, only a few petrified support beams and one lonely chimney left to rise from the rubble. A decade on and the blackened ash was right where it had settled, a ghostly shadow over the cold earth.

Yuri passed it by without a second glance, unfeeling that a little toy horse was a part of the charred mess within. Little snapshots of a forgotten life were littered everywhere, always underfoot in this ghost town atop the mountain. He barely saw them anymore. The first time he'd passed through this place, it was hard not to be a _little _moved by the tragic husk. Judith had been secretive about any part of her life that didn't involve Ba'ul, and it was impossible not to wonder _which _broken and gutted house had been hers. Every discarded cup or faded, tattered rug could have been a relic of her childhood, and that alone had made every scrap of the ancient calamity a little more personal.

It was so much clutter and background noise, now.

His scabbard was gone. Somehow, strangely, that little fact was important. The sheath had probably fallen into the canyon carved out by Vesperia, and who knew how deep that was? It was long gone. All Yuri had left was the naked blade of his sword, and the metal was heavy and cold and uncompromising. It took the ruddy sky and reflected a slice of it back as a dark, faded shadow.  
There was something strange and unnerving about carrying around his trusty old sword bare and ready, having the grip in hand and not the leather straps. The threat of its edge made the air sharp.

Yuri had always preferred to have the sword at least a hand-span away when he wasn't using it, dangling from its tethers. It was a tool, after all. To keep a sword in hand was to carry violence with you, and Yuri had never thought of it that way. He took the blade up when he had to, then let it hang again when he didn't.

Having to carry it unsheathed and full of threat for all this distance was a raw feeling. It made every nerve twinge. It made his skin crawl. His shoulders were already knotting up with tension when he found her, standing atop what was once a stone staircase with her back to him.

Elis looked defenceless. He could probably sink that raw, exposed edge of metal into her back before she could so much as bat an eyelid. Yuri gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, wanting her dead, hesitating anyway.

"You're almost done, child," Elis said to him, back straight as a plank.

"Yeah," he replied, "almost."

She didn't turn around. The set of steps she was on had been demolished a decade ago, going nowhere, uneven and dangerous and a parody of their original purpose. She was looking past their shattered, premature end to where they might have once led, and Yuri inexplicably wanted her to turn around and face him.  
If he had to climb those broken, unstable stairs to force her to do so, then so be it.

"I'm almost relieved," Elis admitted suddenly, halting his first hesitant step. "I've been waiting such a long time for all this..." – here she laughed in simple, almost girlish wonder – "It hardly seems real."

The blood drained from his face and hands in a cold rush, leaving him as chilled as his sword. The sensation was so complete that he couldn't tell where the blade stopped and he began...

"Oh, it's _real_," he said softly. "You _made _it real."

"I did, didn't I?"

Her pride made him sick.

"You killed Ba'ul," Yuri announced loudly, brutally. He thought saying it out loud and flinging it at her would lessen the ache, but it didn't. Taking the first step up those sunken stairs did, however, and Yuri slowly ascended two of them. One shifted threateningly under his feet when Elis turned suddenly, thin eyebrows raised in surprise.

"... Dead? He chose to die?" she asked with interest.

"_Chose __to- _Oh, don't stop now. You were so good about taking the credit for it a few seconds ago."

"Don't be ridiculous," said she. "If the beast was too stupid to leave well alone, then it's hardly my issue."

His next step landed so heavily on the broken slab of stone that it splintered.

"... Do you have _any _idea what it is you've _done_?" Yuri wondered, voice hard and incredulous. It seemed impossible that someone could destroy something without really knowing what it was that they erased. How could she take someone as large-as-life as Ba'ul and just... trivialise him? How could she raise her eyebrows with interest when she wasn't there for that splintered scene at Temza's base? How could she look so calm about it when she didn't have to live with the grief like Judith did, day after day?

The weight of his promise drove him up the next set of steps as if he was its puppet. Elis appraised him thoughtfully.

"... Why are you here, swordsman?" she wondered, curious. He didn't bother responding, and she tilted her head at him. A small, cruel little smile tweaked at her lips when she continued, "Is it _just _because of your entelexeia friend? Or is it Sister Judith, perhaps? Orders from that Commandant? No, I don't think it is..." Her eyes flashed knowingly. "... No, it's the Child of the Full Moon, isn't it. I can practically _smell _her on you."

"Leave Estelle out of this."

Her name felt uncomfortable in the raw, cold air.

"... You're in love with her," Elis noted.

"That's none of your damn business," Yuri replied through his teeth.

"This is a _lot _of effort for one little girl-child, swordsman."

"Shut up."

He should just kill her. She was right there. A few jagged, demolished steps left and he could end her. Straight through the heart, a quicker death than Ba'ul's, more than she deserved.

... Why did he hesitate?

"You and I... I feel like we understand each other," Elis said suddenly, smiling wanly. "I can see it in your eyes, you know. Sister Judith and that Commandant friend of yours... they looked at me with pity and disdain. As if I'm an invalid or a thief. It's insulting. You, however... you alone are taking me seriously."

"Don't flatter yourself," Yuri managed, but the cobble shifted under his feet again. "I'm only here to clean up this mess. This sick little game of yours? You're the only one playing."

"You're so sure?" Elis murmured smugly.

They were eye-to-eye on that broken staircase to absolutely nowhere. She wasn't a tall creature, but the four steps that separated them levelled out their height. The tip of Yuri's sword hovered by her ankle, and he struggled to lift it.

She'd made her motives perfectly clear. Justice, of all things, for something that had happened aeons ago. Revenge for a tragedy that had occurred a decade ago to people that no longer existed. It was simple enough, and a few days ago Yuri wouldn't have considered it enough of an excuse for what she was doing to his friends.

But still he stood there, looking desperately for the differences between them. And, atop those broken steps, he found very little at all.

He hated this woman more than he should have. He hated that she forced so much strife and misery into Estelle's life out of spite, because she couldn't keep her suffering to herself. He hated that she had reduced everything Ba'ul was, every precious moment of his life to no more than a footnote in her own twisted story. Their gentle friend meant more than that. He _had _to mean more than that...

She probably felt the same way about Elucifer.

"There, you see?" Elis said softly, all smiles. "We're not so different after all."

Yuri stared at her in utter shock.

He hadn't been expecting it. Cumore and Ragou were murderers because of their callous disregard, and it was a brand of evil that Yuri was familiar with. Their crime was that they didn't feel a damn thing at all, no matter who they hurt or killed. It was easy to distance himself from that, because Yuri wasn't _heartless;_ he understood the weight of a life, even if they didn't, and somehow that made it okay.

But _this _kind of murderer was different again.

Elis killed and tortured out of hate. It was such a deep and visceral malice that it made her crimes feel even more strange and alien. Who would ever let themselves loathe something so much that it ate away at their life until nothing else was left? That much spite was like insanity, something that Yuri would never, ever understand. But _hate_ didn't appear out of nowhere. Too late, he began to realise just what deep well it spawned from, just which corkscrew twisted all those good intentions out into something else.  
Yuri realised it because he wasn't standing there, sword in hand, because he hated this woman for no reason.

He'd protected Estelle from as many attempts on her life as he could, but couldn't do a damn thing about her punishing herself with her own guilt. He'd held her as she'd sobbed and cried and was powerless to stop that too. He'd nearly lost her.  
He stood right where he was now because if he didn't, Estelle was going to continue to suffer until something broke.

It was almost funny what kind of darkness could be born out of Love.

And in that truth was Yuri's salvation.

"… Us? The same? Don't make me laugh," he said abruptly, lifting his sword and resting the flat of it on his shoulder.

"Oh?" Elis replied. "You're avenging dear, beloved comrades aren't you? Protecting something precious from further corruption? Come now, I know you understand, the injustice, the responsibility."

... And maybe they were alike. Maybe, if not for this one little fact, they'd have been the same person in a decade or so...

Yuri bent forward at the waist, viciously satisfied that she rocked back gently from his sudden proximity.

"The difference between you and me," he said quietly, "is that if I _ever _turn into a heartless, murdering psychopath, there are people out there that care enough to stop me. Who the hell was there to stop _you_?"

Her eyes widened as if he'd already sunk the blade in.

And as he poised there, more than ready to finally bring that sword and promise down, something slipped from the folds of his tunic and swung from his neck, dangling between them like a colourful metronome.

Estelle's memento twisted breezily on its leather strap.

The sight of it stalled every thought in Yuri's head. His eyes darted down to its pretty, unmarred face and the small lapse in focus was all Elis needed. With his gaze already lowered, Yuri watched on as the krityan woman suddenly lifted a foot in a sharp jerk. It wasn't until the motion came to an abrupt halt that the light finally caught the steely thread that had been stretched over staircase.

Elis tugged on the tripwire, and Yuri almost didn't react in time.

He lurched backwards when a series of metallic _clicks _stuttered through the heavy air. Something zipped by his nose instantly, close enough to shear a few strands of his hair free, and clattered into the rocks on the other side. Yuri tried to right himself on the uneven flagstones, but the ancient, broken steps finally gave way under his heel.

He hit the stairway on his back and clattered down painfully, catching more trip-wires on the way down and knowing, had he been standing, he'd have been peppered with whatever projectiles had been rigged to go off.

Yuri coughed the dust from his lungs when he finally crumpled to a halt at the base of the demolished stairs, sword still locked firmly in hand, his spine feeling battered and bent. He twisted around in time to see Elis pull a neat little crossbow from her belt. She didn't hold it naturally, but she obviously didn't need to. It was too small to deliver a fatal blow. It was too small for an arrow or standard bolt.  
Darts. Poisoned, if Sodia's delirious breakdown had anything to do with it.

Elis didn't have anything to say as she levelled that little weapon at him, finger poised over the trigger. She looked almost frightened of him, face ghosted with that deep, disgusted kind of fear that happened when something unpleasant started acting in an unexpected way. Yuri scowled and tried to get his legs under him; his back shrieked, bruised enough to feel wet against his tunic. The rock was loose under his feet, and he didn't need to test it to know it would take some skating to pull himself up. He glared up at the madwoman atop the stairway, waiting.

He wondered how long the poison would take to kick in. Probably not quick enough to stop him from getting back up and finishing what he started… If he could kill her before then, then whatever hallucinating psychotic he turned into afterwards wouldn't matter. He'd have succeeded. Flynn or Raven could deal with him after the fact; he trusted them enough to know they'd make it quick, if they had to.

Yuri forced himself up with an awkward stagger, ignoring the warning click of the crossbow.

He'd managed one aching step when he caught sight of something past Elis' bony shoulder. His stomach dropped before his muddled brain caught up, because there was something about those colours... It was an indistinct shape, moving erratically about the dilapidated town like a ghost, unmistakable in its white and pinks. The sight of it was like a slap to the face, shocking and unexpected.

It jarred the world instantly back into focus.

"Estelle," Yuri managed hoarsely, eyes wide. His sword lolled in his stunned grip.

Elis spun for the half second it took to see the shifting figure as well. As they watched, the distant figure abruptly dropped where it stood, collapsing into a bundle at the base of a demolished house. Something surged up from the depths of Yuri's core and his legs gave a sudden jerk forward. The plaited grip of his sword creaked when his fist tightened over it.

Elis turned back with a harried look in her wide eyes. She suddenly looked broken and unimportant, and Yuri cast his eyes around for way past her, stomach knotting, the dangling memento a heavy weight on his chest.

_Estelle's in trouble._

… What the hell had he been doing all this time?

"No," Elis broke out suddenly, not liking what she saw in his eyes. "We're not finished here. You won't leave."

Yuri shot her a glare, testing a foot on the unstable steps once more.

"I haven't finished talking!" Elis barked.

"Believe me, I've heard enough," Yuri shot back, too tired for real spite. He drove the ball of his foot into the first unstable bit of earth and ground down, relying on feel because he had to keep that crossbow in sight. It wavered erratically, the finger on the trigger trembling slightly. The constant quake made it impossible to read when she'd fire, and Yuri was forced to stand there, waiting for an opening.

"Don't ignore me. Don't you dare turn your back on me," was all Elis could wheeze, lips pulled back in a snarl.

And then, miraculously, an opening happened.

The crossbow exploded in flame. It went up like a miniature bonfire, violently roaring in Elis' hand as if she'd doused her fingers in kerosene and lit them up. Within half a second the wood had disintegrated and, with an audible _twang_, the bowstring snapped and lashed back.

It slashed across the woman's cheek so abruptly it took a handful of seconds for the blood to spill.

She shrieked and dropped the crackling, half-eaten weapon on the steps and slapped at her blistered hand furiously; Yuri surged upwards, not understanding what had happened and not really caring.

He came in low and brought his sword around in a quick, efficient slice as he passed.

It was the quickest, easiest way to kill someone, and in that crystal clear little half-second, Zagi's final moments flashed before Yuri's eyes. But Elis wasn't as graceful or accepting; with a defensive twist, she took the blade up one side and over her left arm instead of through the chest, and she stared at him in a shocked wonder as the wound parted cleanly. She stumbled, tottered, then fell down the broken steps in a bloody tangle.

It wasn't a clean hit. Yuri didn't have time to make sure with a second blow. He barely had time to follow the painful looking fall with his eyes before anxiety curled its fingers around his stomach and squeezed. With a heartfelt curse, he gave his sword a swipe to flick free the blood, then turned his gaze back to the town.

It was easier to push Elis out of his mind when Estelle rose into his vision again.

The ground was rough and uneven under his feet, painful even through the thick soles of his boots, but he couldn't drag his eyes from her. She pulled herself up on the wall of ancient house, shoulder against the crumbling stone, her every move a disjointed little twitch as if each muscle required concentration. Yuri stumbled on a lifted flagstone by the time she reached out and groped blindly at the air for the next support.

He got there in time to catch her before she fell.

The first thing to hit him was the shocking little zap. The static charge snapped at his hands when they swept around her middle, and the force of it made every hair of the backs of his arms rise. The second thing, as Yuri carefully brought her closer to his chest, was that her face was scrunched up in acute concentration.

She'd been stumbling around with her eyes shut.

"Hey," he breathed, easing them both down close to the ground. "Hey… You with me? Estelle? C'mon, say something." Her fingers bumbled blindly at his front and latched awkwardly onto the fold of his tunic. She gave a strange little jerk in his arms as if stung, then sunk further into his embrace.

"Yuri," she gasped.

He darted a look around the still, crumbling landscape, but it was as lifeless as a morgue. They were the only ones there. And when he brought his eyes back, she was frowning once more, gnawing at her lower lip as if she were untangling a tiny and complex knot too small for her fingers. He swept a hand through her hair to brush it away from her slick temples. If she felt it, it didn't show. She just jerked and twitched, always quaking with that deep tremble of tired, abused muscles. It was like she struggled with a burden on the very cusp of being too heavy for her. Unsure what else to do, Yuri pulled her further into his lap and tipped her head to rest against his shoulder. Whatever ailed her seemed to come in waves, and it was a wonder she'd been walking at all.

For one horrible moment, he wondered if this had been Elis' doing.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Yuri managed in a rough voice, powerless once more. He waited a painfully long time for her to reply.

"I- I did. D-Don't worry… about me," Estelle eventually managed, fist curling over his tunic so tightly that the cloth creaked. Her back arched suddenly and then that deep, perturbed frown of concentration was back. She wilted, no longer paying attention.

She was out of her mind if she thought he wouldn't be worried after that.

Yuri glanced around the empty scenery, utterly at a loss.

"Just what the hell is going on here?" he demanded to no one in particular. He shook his head when another thought occurred. "Dammit… Where the _hell_ is Rita and Karol?"

"Rita," Estelle gasped, lurching up suddenly. Her forehead bumped his throat and suddenly it was an effort not to have her struggle up and out of his arms. Her fight was short-lived; she seemed to be having trouble coordinating herself, and Yuri wasn't about to let her go anytime soon. The princess sank back with a moan and clutched at her chest as if in great pain.

Her eyes were finally open. They waned in and out of focus when she stared up at him.

"What is it Estelle?" Yuri asked as gently as he could. Frustration was making his teeth clench, but snapping at her wouldn't help. Her free hand flapped weakly at his chest, bumping her own mother's memento in the process. He caught the fumbling palm and squeezed.

"Rita." Her voice was barely a whisper. Yuri leant in closer.

"What? I don't- what about Rita?"

A chuckle slipped in over his shoulder, so close it stirred the hair that had fallen over his ear.

"Who, the mage?"a voice wondered smugly.

Estelle hissed in agony, face tilting back.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Waylin continued, crouched low and personal over Yuri's shoulder. "I killed her."

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: I'm bad with being subtle. Either I take a sledgehammer to my writing, or whatever subtle little message I'm trying to convey is lost underneath descriptor. I tried to be a little abstract with the Spirit's gifts (especially Undine's) but maybe too abstract? I also really enjoyed the staircase metaphor I wrote in for Yuri's crisis, but that probably gusted in under the radar too.  
Man, writing sure is tough.**

**Apologies for the morally loaded chapter. I was always a little surprised that the game never really had Yuri account for his actions / beliefs. It felt like a major theme, so I resurrected the debate for Homecoming.**

**Thank you all again for your lovely, lovely reviews and see you next chapter!**


	27. Opportunity

**27: Opportunity**

.  
_oOo_  
.

_It__'__s __a __lie_.

Ragnus didn't believe it. Estelle couldn't believe it either. But the seed of doubt had been planted, and even that tiny slither was like a blade in their side. It made it impossible to stay focused.

"_I __killed __her.__"_

It couldn't possibly be true.

There seemed to be more of Ragnus in Estelle's mind than ever. She likened him to a well-loved ragdoll, swelling up as its stitching was unravelled, all that warm, fluffy filler foaming free. She had been aware that he'd once been bird-like, but there was little memory of that now. He just continued to unravel. His old form was like the canvas and stitching that peeled away, the wispy stuffing that blossomed out, his thoughts and emotions.  
It made all of his fear and concern larger than life.

_It__'__s __a __lie_, they thought together.

Rita couldn't _possibly _be dead. Estelle had seen so many different kinds of injury over the years, and even she recognised a serious one... but _dead_? Rita simply wasn't the dying _type. _Surely it would take a cataclysm to bring her down, a huge magical catastrophe or some colossal natural disaster. Nothing mundane, at least. Not Rita.

Not bleeding out all alone in some barren, forgotten ruin.

Wordlessly, Ragnus grappled more of the conversion to himself so that Estelle could turn her eyes outward. She knew she only had a few seconds, so she didn't waste them.

"Rita?" she asked again, voice so hoarse not even she recognised it. She was vaguely aware that she was jostling around in a familiar pair of arms. There was laboured breathing, the sound of running and the constant, needling echo of metal clashing against stone.

"Rita," she prodded desperately.

"Working on it," Yuri grunted back, dodging to the right. Waylin darted after them like an agitated wasp, swearing with frustration as his quarry ducked in and out of the ruins to evade him. Estelle's feet battered against the crumbling stone, her arms swinging boneless at her side. Estelle knew that Yuri would have probably won by now if he didn't have her to worry about. If she hadn't been a dead-weight for him to carry around, forever sweeping her out of harms way, all this might have been over.

She couldn't stop now, however much she wanted to.

Sinking away from the battle on Temza's peak, Estelle gathered up her slack of the conversion. It churned away like a meat-grinder when she did, just shy of painful in her hands. She fed more of her power into its ragged teeth steadily, always at the same plodding pace. Judging from the pooling _something _that was being spun from their combined efforts, they had barely even begun the process.

_**Slow **__**and **__**steady, **_Ragnus said, feeling her dismay.

Too slow. Too steady.

Not so long ago, Estelle had tried to force-feed more of her formula into the conversion to speed things up. It had choked and stuttered and shredded what little she'd pushed forward, then threatened to grind to a halt completely. Despite the fact that she was exhausted already, despite the fact that Rita was bleeding and Yuri was in danger... She hadn't dared to try it again. She just continued to concentrate, a complete slave and victim to the whole process.

She had no idea how much time had passed; she had found a place in her head that made the process a little more numbing and a little less taxing when, with a surprising little jolt, she felt someone nudge her.

_**Breathe, **_someone told her urgently.

"-stelle! C'mon, breathe, dammit! Don't quit on me n-"

Estelle was more confused than anything. She wondered where the voices were coming from. Eventually, grudgingly, she turned her attention to the growing list of complaints of her agonised body was constantly battering her with. There was so much hurt, so much discomfort and fatigue and ache. And underneath a terrible twanging in her nerves, something in her chest was screaming for attention.

_Air_.

Estelle sucked in a breath immediately, gasping on it, shocked at how much she needed.

She'd forgotten to breathe.

_**Slow **__**and **__**Steady, **_Ragnus reminded her desperately, as captive to the conversion as she. Neither could stop, both were half-finished.

And Estelle knew a moment of terror. There was so much left to do. There wasn't much of _her _left, and it was getting harder to remember to hold together what remained. She sucked in another lungful of precious air, then put the arduous task of breathing aside for the few seconds it took to manage the conversion.

It had to end soon, she realised numbly. The trouble was, she had no way of making that happen.

.  
_oOo_  
.

When Raven squeezed himself free of the narrow little cave exit, the very first thing he noticed was how much closer to doomsday it felt. The second thing, once the shock of that had dulled, was that he was _much _higher than he had been.

He hadn't been in the cave for all that long. He wondered, nervously, just what kind of power it took to rearrange the insides of a mountain to deliver one human from its pocked middle to its craggy peak. Gnome wore the effort visibly. The Spirit wrinkled his nose at the red sky, the most emotion he'd ever shown, then tottered a few paces away from the cave exit to sit down on the nearest space of stone. He was gone instantly, one second there, the next replaced with a vaguely reminiscent stack of rock.

Stumbling through the darkness had bruised and scuffed his hands to hell, but Raven wrung them together nervously anyway. He hesitated before leaning forward to give the pile of boulders a grateful pat.

"My thanks," he croaked, leaving behind a dirty handprint where Gnome's head had once been.

Raven barely recognised the mountain-top township when he cautiously approached it. The whole place thrummed like a plucked string, cutting jagged shadows across the rock under the unnatural light. Brave Vesperia continued to crush down on the world like an overbearing parent. It was low and close and every plated panel of it was visible in minute detail. The core of the mechanism, the bright light that had probably once been mistaken for the star, was blazing like a window into hell.  
Raven couldn't look at it. Instead, he followed the single beam of energy from the blastia's core, all the way down past the pressure-cooked clouds to the ancient town. The light disappeared behind the crumbling wall of what might once have been the town hall.

His intuition told him something was wrong long before he'd even got there.

The contraption set near the far wall looked vaguely familiar. It was the other end of the celestial beam that touched Vesperia; complex, formulaic rings rotated slowly around the device, very blue in the very red light. It appeared to be running all by itself. There was an empty knapsack closer nearby, and it took a moment to recognise it as Rita's.

Raven's intuition added another ton of dread onto his steadily building pile of it. His blast heart was spitting sparks because of the elevated heart-beat.

The deathly stillness was begging to be broken with a shout. It took more willpower that he'd liked to have admitted to stop himself from doing so. The township of Temza was not a safe place; Raven could only account for the whereabouts of _one _of their enemies, and the broken, shadowed terrain was ideal for an ambush. Calling out for the missing mage, no matter how worried he was, was a stupid, stupid idea. Slowly, keeping his eyes on the shadows, he crouched down to pick up the discarded backpack and listened instead.

The mountaintop was rumbling. A little louder than that, Rita's transmitter was humming like a supercharged conduit. Stones were beginning to jump and clatter under Vesperia's presence. Laced through that, there was the distant and constant sound of metal on stone. There was a fight happening somewhere in the town.

Raven tucked the rucksack underarm and rubbed at his fizzing heart. He had taken a cautious step towards the echo of violence when one final sound shyly met his ears.

Typing. The familiar, constant, industrious sound of magi-electronic typing.

Raven spun on the spot instantly, eyes wide and searching. He'd swept the clearing twice more before he finally found what he was looking for; a dark stain of dried blood, smeared down the dusty face of an old wall. A closer inspection revealed a pooled spatter at its base, trailing away just around the corner. The typing was louder; the dread was crushing.

"_Rita!_" Raven burst out, damning caution to hell.

"Not so... loud," a familiar voice griped, just over the wall.

The rucksack hit the ground with a _whump_. Raven half tripped, half vaulted over the broken wall in a clumsy rush, and he was all left-feet when he landed prematurely to avoid dropping on the body below. He might have righted himself under normal circumstances. Here and now, his knees gave out instead, dumping him in a horrified, crumpled heap at the figure's feet.

Rita had dragged herself behind cover on her side, leaving behind little skids of blood where she had used her boots to push herself along. She'd found the closest thing to a head rest she could and left herself wedged against it, one arm pressed tightly to her side while the other hovered over her research panel.

Blood had snaked through the edges and cracks of the cobble she laid on, painting a grim spiderweb in red. Her face was as white as a sheet, her eyes much too dark.

"... Nononono," Raven broke out, barely coordinating himself over to his hands and knees. She didn't even pause in her typing when he clamoured gracelessly to her, and the sudden burst of motion stopped as abruptly as it started when Raven accidentally put his hand directly into the warm pool of her blood.

He stared at the glistening crimson coating his palm and he thought his heart had stopped.

"Keep it down," Rita managed through pale lips. "Do you want them to find us?"

He didn't know where to put his stained hands. They hovered uselessly in his hedged vision, and it took long moments before he could bring himself to look past all that red and actually see the mage beyond it. She was favouring her left side, compressing it firmly with the combined pressure of one still arm and the ground. The dark stain on her researchers jacket was big enough to almost completely span her slender waist. There was so much blood.

"Oh, darlin'," Raven heard himself say in a breathless wobble. "Oh, honey- I-"

Her legs shifted against the wet stone slightly in full-body wince. The sight of her obvious efforts to ignore the pain was what kick-started Raven's brain again. With numb, bumbling motions, the archer struggled out of his own jacket and wadded it into a vaguely round bundle. Rita only managed a small hiss of pain when he gently lifted her head to place the makeshift pillow between her and the craggy rock. She continued to tap away at her incorporeal keyboard when he hesitantly pressed one hand down on her saturated middle, then used the other to ease her out of her defensive twist. He had to take a second to gather his courage. With a weak grimace, he lifted his hand and looked.

The injury bubbled at him and his Blast Heart gave another searing jolt. Her wound was farther away from her vitals than he'd thought with that much blood, but it was deep and jagged and harrowing. The small section of scarf she usually bound her waist with was very nearly shredded through, and the blood made it hard to tell the difference between torn cloth and torn flesh.

Raven was forced to hesitate, momentarily overwhelmed.

A single sentiment pulled free of the white noise that flooded his head.

"... I hate this place," Raven murmured, voice broken and weak. Rita finally glanced up from her industrious typing.

"Quit... being so melodramatic," she managed, scowling at whatever expression she saw on his face. She shifted slightly back into her old position so that she could resume typing. "It's just... a scratch. I'm fine."

She wouldn't be, without help. Without a healer – a real one – she wasn't going to last beyond an hour or two. For the first time in three years, Raven genuinely, deeply regretted the loss of his bohdi blastia. His old healing artes had never been spectacular, but they'd served a purpose as emergency first-aid, cheap patches for the heat of battle until a real healer could come in and reverse the damage. Without them, he was little more than a spectator. All he could do was watch, as powerless as the first time, as the young woman before him slowly bled out. He was forced to watch as everything vibrant and bold about Rita Mordio leaked through his fingers and disappeared into the ancient, forgotten stone.

He wasn't sure he could do it again. He wasn't sure if he could face the grief.

"Are you _crying?__" _Rita snapped, colour momentarily returning to her cheeks. Raven blinked, once.

She ran an exasperated hand over her pasty face, expression hard to read in his blurry vision.

"I'm not dead _yet_, moron," she muttered into her palm, ever the realist.

Her little flare of temper had been as good as a slap. With one final shudder, Raven bundled up the blackest of emotions that raged in his skull, then resolutely shoved them aside. After that, it was easy enough to ignore her noise of irritation when he very gently moved her arms aside, but harder to ignore the sound of pain when he worked his fingers around the soaked edge of her belt. Raven was beginning to ease it loose when she gave him a weak shove.

"Leave it, I need to- to get this done. I can't stop until the conversion is completed and that'll take time. I have to concentrate," she managed, eyes returning once more on her scrolling research panel. Raven moved her scarf along until the shredded part was out of the way. He bunched the ruined section against her wound, then began to rewind the intact lengths of it as a makeshift compress. He was tightening it as roughly as he dared when he leant forward so that his forehead nearly touched hers.

"Where's Estelle, Rita?" he asked her softly in a voice he barely recognised. He could do a little without healing artes, but not much. He needed Estelle. _Rita_ needed Estelle, whether she was willing to admit it or not.

She gave a dismissive flap of her hand. The gesture was cut short with an unexpected, violent little jolt. The mage lifted her face suddenly, bumping his nose with hers, then shot him a startled look.

"... Y-Yuri was with her when he ran through here before," she managed, sounding a little confused and distracted. "That loon with the claws was trying to kill them but-"

She jerked again suddenly, then frowned in indignation.

"He did this?" Raven asked darkly.

"Ow!" Rita burst out, giving another small twitch. Raven pulled back instantly, guiltily checking to make sure his clenching fists hadn't been anywhere near her injury. They hadn't been. Rita moved her eyes past his hovering hands and lodged, instead, on his chest.

His Blast Heart was fizzing worse than ever. It clicked and spat out sparks of electricity as if it was over-clocking itself, pulsing a deep red in erratic bursts. More of his shirt had blackened and shrivelled away from the burnt gap since he'd last checked, and as they watched, another shock lanced out to touch Rita's hovering fingers. She whipped them away with a hiss of pain.

And then she reached up and grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt anyway.

"Your _heart_," she broke out, eyes wide. Whether she was aware of it or not, her improvised bandage began to go dark as it leaked. With a wince, Raven forced her back down by the shoulders and tried to keep her there.

"It's still tickin', darlin'," he said firmly down at her. "Worry about yourself a little, would ya?"

Rita glared back, ashen face pinched and dusty hair splayed across his bundled jacket.

"No, that's not- I mean, that isn't- ugh, shut up already and let me look!" she stammered, then reached forward to touch the blastia gem with her fingertips. The static shock was so harsh that Raven very clearly heard the _snap_. She gave one final wince, then settled back with a distracted, fraught expression on her face.

Raven kept her shoulders pressed firmly down for one more moment before letting go.

"C'mon, Rita, I need ya ta focus," he begged quietly. "Just this once? Estelle. You gotta know where Estelle is." When long moments passed with no response at all, he pulled what remained of his pink shirt over his blastia if only to stop her staring. It didn't work. Licking her dry, pale lips, the mage lifted her bleary eyes and gave him a look of pure iron.

"... Strip," she ordered.

His brain skipped a track.

"Uh, s-s'cuse me?" Raven managed, blinking. He jumped when she made another grab for his charred front.

"Hurry up, every second counts!" Rita ground out in frustration. She gave a great, agonised shudder when she turned her torso the wrong way, then shot him a furious look through her sweat-matted hair. "I mean it," she managed through her teeth. "Take it off."

"Rita, you're not makin' any sense, darlin'. You've lost alotta blood and-"

"Do you _ever _just shut up and listen?" Rita interrupted, slowly levering herself up to an almost sit. "Estelle is in the middle of converting Vesperia. Until it's done, she's in no position to heal me. Get it now? We need to end this. I don't have... the power output to speed things up, but if _someone_ would quit being such a girl about it, I might be able to utilise a... a secondary power source."

Raven gaped at her, bloody hands limp on his knees. She was talking about his heart. She was talking about turning him into a portable battery. She must have read something on his face, because she began to thumb the edge of her goggles guiltily.

"… You… you just have to trust me. I never got a chance to-" Here she had to pause to catch her breath – "… optimise the changes, but your formula was modified when Volt was born. He's better at generating power than Undine is, so you've been jettisoning unused energy ever since... We can use that. I promise it's not dangerous."

Raven knelt there, totally still as his desperately wounded mage looked up at him from her own pool of blood, trying to make him feel better. He stared silently while she peered past her fidgeting hand to search his eyes for doubt. He wondered how he had come to be here.

He wondered how anyone could be so convincing while so very injured.

"I trust ya, darlin'," he sighed, shoulders slumping with finality. A slender hand lifted to give him a weak, rewarding pat.

"Good," she said, softer than he'd ever heard her. And then her eyes hardened. "Now, take me to the transmitter. And lose the shirt."

He wondered how the hell it had come to this.

Rita was so very light in his arms when he carefully picked her up. There was no painless way to hold her, not from her injury, not from his overflowing Blast Heart. Raven could only be quick, and he was all too aware of how wilted and limp she was when he carried her from the poor hiding spot and towards the courtyard. He laid her down, along with his slightly damp jacket, on the dusty cobbles next to the glowing machine. She was already summoning up panels of data over the contraption's core when Raven reluctantly sat himself down beside her.

The mana transmitter was humming.

"We haven't got all day," Rita warned him, sparing only half a second worth of frown.

There was something so very wrong about tugging the pink material free of his belt. He let it hang the second it came free, then plucked at the blackened gap over his chest hopefully, displaying just how wide the hole had become.

"Stop stalling. I want it off. Now."

Not the tone he imagined her to say those words in. Raven fidgeted miserably, bunching thin cotton in his fists as he glanced up over the broken ruins and to the sizzling sky. He had compiled an enormous list of excuses to keep his clothes on over the years, but none of them applied on that baking mountaintop.

None of them mattered when he glanced down at the bloody smudges all over his shirt hem.

"Raven," Rita managed through pain-pinched lips, and he couldn't remember the last time she'd used his name.

Raven was blinded by his unbound hair when he finally tugged the material over his head. To distract himself, he scrunched the threadbare cotton up into a ball, just as she reached past it and touched her fingers to various parts of the metal staple embedded in his chest. Energy zapped and bit at her, but she shook free the flutters every time, then doggedly reached back.

Wind felt strange and raw on his hunched, bare shoulders.

The gem looked all wrong in the daylight, however stained that light was. The ex-spy had never liked looking at the contraption fused into his flesh, but in a darkened room, it had always been just a blastia; with a little stretch of the imagination and a healthy dose of sunlight, he thought he could see the disturbing shadows of his insides through the dense stone. His pulse sped up before his very eyes, then disappeared behind Rita's shifting digits. She called up and dismissed small panels over the view, hands moving further over the curling roots of metal than a blackened gap would have allowed.

She left a few minor windows running, then returned to her own still hovering over her knees. She glanced at him.

"It's okay," Rita said quietly. "I promised."

And Raven smiled at her, not so sure that he cared any more.

The draw happened almost instantaneously. Raven sucked in a sudden breath, light-headed, shocked at how uncomfortable his pulse had been right up until only a second ago. The pressure of unused energy had been a constant press against his ribs. Now it was gone, dispersed out through Rita's formula in a shocking, tingling rush of relief.

The rings of mana that rotated around the transmitter very suddenly went from a sky blue to a searing, burning white. The change had been instant. The only thing gradual about the shift was the consequent pulse of velocity; each surge was timed precisely to his own heartbeat, and it somehow made the steadily building spin familiar.

Before his eyes, the transmitter was beginning to speed up…

.  
_oOo_  
.

Yuri saw the change of light immediately. It painted black shadows across the landscape as crisply as paint, fanning out from somewhere lower in town. He had been pushing himself to reach the outskirts, but at the sudden sunburst, he staggered to an uncertain halt.

He stood there squinting into the glare, trying to catch his breath, trying to figure out what had changed. He wondered if his never-ending game of cat-and-mouse had finally given him what he'd wanted.  
Yuri wondered if this was finally his Window of Opportunity.

It wasn't really in his nature to run and wait. In normal circumstances, he'd had made his own opening by now, forcing the tide to turn through pure will-power and cunning. Things weren't always so simple. Estelle was getting heavier and heavier in his arms, and more disturbingly, she was also getting colder. Every passing second seemed to make her slip away just that little bit further, and Yuri had lost focus on what it was he was supposedly protecting her from.

"_Hold __still!_"

Metal sheared in from the right. Yuri pulled away with an awkward lurch, dodging the vicious swipe with only millimetres to spare. The slash had been so close that it had slipped completely under his defences; his shoulder gave a sudden searing note of pain, but to his horror, it wasn't his blood that flew past his vision. A few pink strands of hair wisped past, bold in the searing light for a horrible moment before vanishing entirely in shadow.

… The wait for an opening was going to get them both killed.

Estelle was bent awkwardly in his arms. He'd been bundling her up closer and tighter with every near-miss; she was almost folded in two against him with only one limp arm free to dangle free from his possessive grip. Yuri reached up and pressed one hand over her mussed hair, denying that the close-call had ever happened. Warmth trickled down his shoulder from his newest nick, a guilty reminder that it had.

Waylin had been so desperate to land his hit that he'd put too much force into it. The krityan had slammed his fist into the side of the house at a bad angle, the tip of one claw snapping on the ancient stone while the others lodged deep into the ancient cement.

He was trying to tug his bladed gauntlet free when Yuri bundled Estelle higher and ducked out of the heavily shadowed alley.

"Put her down and face me, or hurry up and die!" he heard Waylin burst out petulantly. "Pick one already!"

Yuri grinned humourlessly, ducking through an old doorframe and skidding over the cobbled path beyond.

He'd circled the town at least three times now. There was no way to shake the miniature psychopath free, and there was nowhere safe to leave Estelle. Waylin made it no secret that his first priority was to murder the princess, but Yuri wouldn't have hidden her away anyway. He didn't trust her to last alone in the silence. Her heartbeat was noticeably erratic whenever he touched a finger to her throat. She frequently went long, torturous minutes without breathing at all. She only responded to one thing. Yuri headed towards it now, if only to rouse the princess one last time.

The handful of laps around town had burnt its broken layout into Yuri's memory. He clattered down the eastern stairwell, cut across the foundation of an old house, then leapt over the final dividing wall. The un-shuttered light nearly blinded him.

Yuri turned and dropped his head, squinting through the messy sheet of his hair in a bid to see past the glare. From this side of town, he had a fantastic view across the boulevard and down into the town square. It took time to pick out the shapes hunkered down in the distance, lost as they were against the core of light. He laughed when he did, confused and relieved and suddenly more sure of himself.

Yuri retreated the few feet it took to bring him back against the dividing wall. He slid down it to sit at its crumbling base, carefully easing the princess in his arms out of the compressed little knot of safety.

She lolled like a doll in his arms and he had to cup her head to bring her face closer.

"Estelle," Yuri managed, giving her pallid cheek a pat. "Hey, Estelle. Come on, I know you can hear me. It's Rita. I told you he was lying. She's fine. Rita's okay."

It was hard to see from this distance, but Yuri was willing to bet on it. The shapes were vaguely familiar and, more importantly, the changes to the light could only mean one thing. Rita was alive and forcing the disastrous situation back into order.

The mage had been the only thing that Estelle had been interested in when she'd risen from her torpor; The swordsman pushed more of her hair out of her eyes and, when she didn't so much as sigh, gently tilted her face towards the light. If he'd expected her to open her eyes and see for herself, he was wrong. She just dangled from his grip, expression frozen and blank in the blooming light.  
Something in his chest dropped so sharply it hurt. It left him momentarily breathless.

"Estelle?" Yuri asked again, harder this time. "Answer me, Estelle."

And then a shadow rocketed by overhead, bringing with it a fine rain of dust and silt. Yuri swore and shoved himself further back against the wall, shielding the princess' face from the dirt.

Waylin landed with an artful slide, a perfectly black silhouette against the view. He staggered backwards belatedly when the light pierced under his cowl, and the small assassin swiped both arms across the horizon as if to eviscerate the glare, spitting curses the whole while. He stood directly between Yuri and the nova created by the mana transmitter. The screen he created provided one shocking, breath-taking moment of clarity. Yuri's eyes lifted from the krityan's back, over the leather-stitched hood, then up past it and to the beam of light beyond. It stretched all the way up to Vesperia. It lit the entire sky up, reducing the clouds to mist.

And Yuri saw his Opportunity twist against the stained red.

He was still staring when Waylin finally managed to squint across the rooftops and see the cause of the flare.

"But Th-That's..!" he cried out, disgusted. "But I already- How did she- Seriously, don't you people ever _die?_"

He took a vengeful stride forward.

"Well _maybe _if you didn't suck so much," Yuri tossed at his back, as loudly and disrespectfully as he could. As far as quips went, it was one of the worst he'd ever uttered… but he needed to buy Rita some time. He needed to buy his opportunity some time.

Yuri grinned when, despite the weak and childish little jibe, the assassin's shoulders shot up in a furious hunch. It was dumb, but it had worked, so he ran with it.

"I mean, I suppose you've gotten pretty close to _boring_ me to death," Yuri continued flippantly, "but I guess you're still working on that and who knows how long it'll take. Hell, wouldn't I just be dead of old age anyway? Can't really credit you for that." As he talked, he surreptitiously wedged the heel of one boot against a lifted cobble. Estelle was harder to shift, but eventually he managed to move her carefully from his lap and away from his legs in case he needed to get up in a hurry.

Waylin turned with a venomous snap.

"_You,__" _he snarled. After a moment of speechless, searing rage, the krityan managed to spit out, "_You,_ I won't kill. _You, _I'll keep alive, I promise you that."

"Well now, I'm flattered. Does this make us friends?" Yuri wondered with the very grin he used to rile LeBlanc up with. He just needed a few more seconds…

But he'd always been bad at reading psychopaths.

"_Friends? _I'll carve that ugly smirk right off your face!" Waylin shrieked, snapping instantly, too soon, lunging forward with blind fury.

Yuri's eyes shot up. It was too soon; his window of opportunity was half open, not quite there... and with no other option, he forced it wide on his own.

Waylin punched forward with enough force to make the air rip around his blades. The weapon screamed in at head height, almost impossible to track in the extreme lighting. Yuri tore his head to the side so abruptly that he pulled a muscle in his neck. The dodge was cut dangerously short when most of his hair was caught by the gauntlet punching into the stone wall, but he didn't need room…  
He needed the opening, laid out gloriously before him.

Yuri braced himself, coiled every ounce of frustration and malice and vengeance into his core, then drove the heel of his boot into Waylin's gut as hard as he could.

The assassin shot back with a spray of spittle, gauntlet torn from his hand and left lodged in the rock. He didn't hit the ground for yards, and he slid across the open expanse of boulevard on his back when he did, coughing and dry-wretching from the blow. Yuri was trying to tug at the caught gauntlet by his ear when Waylin shakily found his feet.

"I-I'll destroy you," the krityan wheezed deliriously, dribbling bile. It pattered across his heaving chest and over the dry earth. Weakly, like he hardly noticed, he spat more of his stomach's contents from his slack lips. Fortunately, Waylin was so disoriented that he didn't see the light change overhead.

It was all Yuri could see. One large, hazy shadow, quickly getting bigger, and blacker…

"I'll mutilate everyone you've ever loved," the assassin gargled, wobbling. "I'll gut them all, make them watch what comes out. Make 'em _eat __it_."

... Yuri very carefully took Estelle's face and angled it away from the courtyard, shielding as much of her as he could. Waylin's bird-cage chest was working furiously to get his lost breath back, but you could hear as the air evaporated with every insane murmur that escaped his mouth. He staggered, once, now almost completely lost under the expanding shadow.

"And- and just before they die," he was babbling, mouth twisted into a wry grin, "I'll tell 'em. I'll explain in full who _really _killed 'em, who was responsible… My little… parting gift. A name to take with 'em all the way down to hell. And you can bet _everything_ you've ever owned that the name on their lips will be none other than _Yuri __Low-_"

Izuna plummeted to the stone back-first, punching a shattered crater into the ancient mural like a meteorite.

The shockwave of dust struck Yuri with a _thwoom_, and he hunched against it with his eyes shut, cradling his inert princess to his chest. It felt like the gale of grit lasted for aeons. Eventually, when the worst of it had passed, Yuri coughed the dust from his lungs and cracked an eye open.

Izuna's body was as broken as the stone it had landed on. Judging from the spear lodged directly between his eyes, the entelexeia had been dead before he had even hit the ground.

Of Waylin, all that remained was one boot, sticking out from under the mountain of lizard.

Yuri tried to catch his breathe as the heavy dust settled, numbly running his hand over Estelle's head in bumbling motions. He watched silently as a lone figure rose from its crouch over the ridge of Izuna's spine.

Judith left her spear right where it was. Without it, she looked different. Without it, with her hair undone and sliding around her like liquid, she looked tired and broken and vulnerable. She looked like an ending when she lifted her face to Vesperia's glare and exhaled.

A moment crushed flat with resolution passed, and she finally turned their way.

"Here I am," Judith said, almost sadly.

Yuri released a breath of his own.

"Good to have you back," he replied, in much the same voice.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: ...**

**So I never wanted to get through these final chapters at a crawl, but here we are. Gah, the guilt burns... Anyhue, this was definitely one of those chapters I was pretty unhappy with, but had to shuffle out despite that. Sometimes an update is worth more than whatever polish/revision my little writer's ego is demanding. I'll be better at both time-management and quality in the future.**

**Only a few chapters to go! Thanks to everyone for all that super-kind support. You've made this fic one of the best things I've committed myself to, no joke. :D**


	28. Homecoming

**28: Homecoming**

.  
_oOo_  
.

Blackness.

It stretched on forever. One moment there had been chaos and concentration and worry and hurt, the next… Blackness.

Things spilled out into it. They were important things, dearly beloved things that she should probably have been holding tightly in the darkness. They fled her now like so many brilliant sparks into the void, struck from her heart like tinder.

She reached after them stubbornly.

_Her first caramel éclair… _Had been when she was eight. Gifts of that kind were common for a princess of any age, but they were to be admired and accepted gracefully. Never eaten. The court's physician was very strict on that, because no one liked a fat princess, he had said. The sweets had been confiscated before she'd ever tried one. But one returned, miraculously, hidden in a silver bowl of cut fruit. Her mother had smiled shrewdly all afternoon, but had never confessed to doing something so crass as smuggling.  
To this day, the taste of caramel reminded her of pear and secrecy.

_Her first injury… _Had been a nasty bump on her head when she'd tried to climb the inner sanctum's dividing wall. It hadn't been a dangerous injury, but Zaphias had stopped for a day because of the accident. The kingdom was convinced she was dying. She could still see the swathes of flowers and wreathes and bouquets laid across every flat surface of her room. And although she never tried to leave the castle again, she had written little thank you missives on hundreds of squares of paper, then thrown them out her window and down on the city before the Chancellor shut and locked it again.  
She still remembered how she had begged the wind to carry them over the very wall she had been incapable of climbing.

_Her first love… _Had been when she was fourteen. The council was still arguing over who she should be betrothed to, and she had ignored the whole situation by reading the complete Chronicles of the Everlasting Star in a week. It had been a great indulgence, the ultimate comfort. She'd gotten a pair of reading glasses for her trouble… and a broken heart. The debonair hero had sacrificed himself for his true love at the end, and, because she had been smitten with him, she had mourned for a week. No one knew how to comfort her, because it was just a book. No one understood why she cared so deeply for a fictional hero, however dashing he might have been.  
It was the first time that she had realised how very lonely she was.

_Her first victory… _was a garden salad sandwich. She'd put a few holes in the bread in her attempts to butter it, and the slices of tomato didn't sit well because she'd cut them into uneven wedges. She hadn't been sure just how much of each ingredient was supposed to go between the bread halves either, so she had put it all in, just to be sure. The mayonnaise she had drizzled on top, garnished with a mint leaf. She still remembered how embarrassed she was about the result, but how determined she was to undo a lifetime's worth of useless. Yuri had looked at the sandwich with an unreadable expression. And then he ate it, somehow keeping the contents in place, somehow not smearing mayonnaise all over his face in the process. And when he was done, he had dusted his hands and smiled dazzlingly at her.

"Not bad, Estelle. We'll make a master chef out of you yet," he had said.  
And she knew then, that she would do anything to see that smile again.

_Her first kiss… _had been soft. It had been careful and light and tender, like she was the most fragile, precious thing in the world. She had been so desperately, achingly in love with him that the crowds of people had wafted away like clouds. He had always acted as if her social status was about as important as her shoe size, but somehow that kiss was extra special. He leant into her like she was a real, everyday girl with real, selfish wishes in her heart. It had been hard not bursting at the seams with joy and terror.  
He hadn't answered her question, and a kiss could easily be a lie. But in that moment, she could have lived a million lies if they were as sweet as that one.

Estelle's memories were laid out before her like the paving stones of a great road.

"Sometimes I don't know if they were wonderful or sad," she confessed aloud. It was tranquil, drifting in the darkness and sifting through her favourite recollections. And as if seeing them for the very first time, she recognised them for what they were: good memories set precariously upon a foundation of great, settled sorrow... and bad memories, caught in a complex web of happiness. It was a surprising discovery.

Somewhere out of sight, Rita's spirit conversion was careening through the final stages of its work. Estelle had no idea why the process had suddenly gone from grindingly slow to a screaming rush, but it simply had, without any warning at all. It was like someone had gripped that one loose, crucial thread and tugged, causing everything else to unravel in an unstoppable rush.

You could still hear it, somewhere else, shredding up time like a haywire clock.

_Click-click-click._

Estelle wasn't even aware of what it took from her anymore. She just let the Blackness grow that little bit darker, slowly drawing little pieces of herself out into the void. She reached after the scattered memories. And when she managed to grasp a few, it took her some time to realise that something wasn't right.

The memory she found of Karol was strange. He was helping hundreds of kritya build a town in a location she didn't recognise. He laughed and talked as much as he worked, and despite his earnest efforts, he knocked over as many things as he constructed. Everyone smiled and cheered anyway. They even named the town hall after him in gratitude, and the barrier blastia they mounted on top of the building was built to look like him too.

The strange thing was, the blastia simply looked like a blastia. And Karol looked like Karol. Despite remembering it very clearly, she could not see the likeness.

_Click-click-click._

The next strange scene was of Judith. The gorgeous krityan sat at the head of an equally gorgeous grand hall, surrounded by crowds of official looking scholars and professors and scientists. Each and every one looked stressed and angry and upset. And when the fighting about the rampant aer-flow grew fierce, she finally raised a regal hand. The silence was instant and reverent.

After that was Rita. She was sitting before an aer krene looking tired and haggard and ill, and that memory was quickly replaced with a snapshot of Repede and Raven as they arrived back from stabilising an overloading blastia...

Yuri dispatched a throng of corrupted wildlife, effortless and marvellous against an unfamiliar sky. In her mind's eye, he had sighed darkly down at the bodies of what had once been normal creatures.

"... These aren't mine," Estelle began, confused.

"They are mine."

Ragnus was so close now that Estelle had forgotten he was with her entirely. There was just a strange blur between them, partly mingled hearts and partly synchronising formula.

"Your memories," Estelle clarified carefully.

"My dear friends," Ragnus explained. He deflated suddenly. "... Well… As much as I remember of them. I've been here for so long that I'd forgotten... But how could I? They are why I am here in the first place."

Estelle slowly turned back to the strange memories, so filled with holes that he had patched them up with pieces of hers.

_Click-click-click._

They were entelexeia, she realised. Ones that had existed in a time before the Empire or the Guilds. It was a little strange seeing her friends walk and talk in their stead; Judith looked silly when she hunkered down over a jet of red aer to suck it all in, just as it was odd watching Repede come to land from an air-borne scouting mission. It was almost funny. But then the memories quickly grew darker and whatever giggle bubbled in Estelle's throat withered there.

Rita was the first to die. She was so very sick from the red aer, and it had done things to her internal formula that not even the brightest technicians could reverse. She had been the first to regulate the overloading krene, and because of it, the first to suffer the consequences. She warned everyone what was to come. Those final memories of her were bleak and hopeless, right up until the day they had gone to visit her in her cave and found it empty. Right up until the first tendril of corruption had squirmed in the sky.

Karol was next, followed by Repede. Both had been so sick they could barely eat, and Judith had sent them out to fight monsters instead of managing the corrupted aer, anything to give them space from the poison. But it had been too late for Karol; he had left for his mission and simply never returned. A monster in his skin had arrived at the destination instead, and they'd been forced to kill him before he could murder the township of kritya that had loved him. That had been too much for Repede. He had opted to die as an entelexeia, and he had fought swarms of corrupted beasts until they'd dragged him down to the dirt in some non-descript valley and torn him apart. They hadn't been able to recover his apatheia for weeks.

Judith dubbed the residue of their sickness the 'Adephagos'.

Even knowing that the blastia was causing the red aer, they could not stop using the protective barriers. Even knowing that consuming the rampant flow was feeding the Adephagos, they couldn't stop that either.

Judith hid her sickness very, very well. It had been a terrible shock to everyone when Raven had finally lost his patience and forced her away from the capital and her dynasty there. She had resisted at first, convinced she was stronger than the corruption. He had taken her to one of the worst krenes on the Old Continent. The image of them standing at its entrance and arguing like senators and philosophers was a haunting one. For all of Judith's pride, Raven had won. They hadn't even said goodbye to the others when they had walked calmly into the toxic cave. It was never clear who had caused the earthquake that had sealed the tomb shut, but the krene never saw the light of day again.

"Please, no more," Estelle begged.

The memory that began to birth itself welled up like an open wound. Horribly, Ragnus had used Yuri to represent his dearest companion, and it was like someone had slammed something blunt into Estelle's chest.

Yuri lasted so much longer than he should have. He had hidden it too well. When the very last hook of toxin had finally pierced his heart, he had split apart without any warning at all. The sound he'd made when he had cracked down the middle was unforgettable. Ribbons of fuming tentacles erupted out of his back, out of his mouth, and she –or rather Ragnus – could only watch on in horror as his eyes turned soulless and red and furious and-

"No," Ragnus said, then quashed the memory before it fully formed. He hid it under the brighter ones, letting it fester out of sight. "No," he repeated, softer.

Estelle shook, horrified.

"I remember now," Ragnus said sadly. "I was the sole survivor. When they asked if I'd sustain the barrier blastia in Brave Vesperia to keep the Adephagos at bay… I said yes. Most of my friends _were _the Adephagos. I was protecting them as much as I was protecting Terca Lumereis. My duty."

"I am... _so _very sorry," Estelle cried, heartbroken.

"Don't be," he replied.

_Click…click…click._

He was so warm when he smiled at her.

"Why are you here, sister?" he asked her kindly. Estelle tried desperately to push her grief out into the void with the rest of her. It wasn't until it was out of reach that she bothered answering.

"This was something I had to do," she said with a weak wobble.

"Ah. Your duty. For _that_, you ended up here?"

By here, he meant the Blackness. It had plucked and pulled at the scattered pieces of her heart, subtly stealing them further and further away. She knew that she should probably have been worried about that, because even if she'd wanted to, pulling herself back together felt like an impossible task. It had gone too far. Her strength and willpower were just other pieces of her that were spiralling away beyond reach. She wondered idly if this was what death was.

But even as all that was essentially Estelle unravelled into the void, one truth remained.

"It's not like that, honestly," she sighed sadly. "D-Duty is about bearing a burden for… for the greater good. I haven't even thought about the greater good. I mean, I'm here for the people I truly care about; my friends and… and Yuri… Even people I haven't met yet. Letting them suffer would hurt more than all of the conversions and all of the Voids in the world. So you see, it's not really a burden at all."

"… Then we are the same," Ragnus laughed.

Estelle watched him curiously, surprised.

_Click… click…_

He unfurled suddenly, a bright, white light in the darkness.

"The kind of Duty that bears no burden," he told her fondly, "is the kind that is done out of Love."

He was something else now. Freed of all the plates and pieces of Vesperia, he was less like a star and more like a phoenix, wingspan as bright and broad as a sunbeam. The graceful creature swept his wings out and effortlessly gathered up all of the trailing ribbons of Estelle's heart.

He pushed them back to her in a warm, clean gust.

"Thank you for everything," he said earnestly.

"But…" Estelle felt small and weak again, baffled that the calm and peace of the void was being denied to her. Enormous glowing feathers caged her vision like bars, and they pushed once more.

She felt her heart grow firmer.

"But I never got to apologise!" Estelle burst out, guilty.

"You already have," the new Spirit of Light laughed, then gave her a little nudge.

… _Click._

The Blackness fled.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Judy had stopped moving first.

The steep incline back down to the courtyard was split in two. The giant soldering laser from Vesperia had finally come to an end just off the main road, but not before it had melted a perfect crevasse right across the stairway. Houses had collapsed into the gap, a crumbled full-stop to the impossibly straight line.  
Yuri barely saw it; he glanced up enough to make sure his feet were landing on solid ground, but his attention never stayed long. It was only because he'd almost walked straight into the back of the krityan before him that he came to a listless halt himself.

Estelle wasn't moving. Whatever struggle that had made her flinch and twist in his arms had simply… stopped. A pulse touched her throat at a pace too slow to be normal; breath passed between her blue, pale lips like an afterthought. When he'd first realised, they'd laid her down on the nearest surface to try and rouse her. Judy had taken one look at her white face and had said, in a careful voice, that there were medics further down the mountain.

There was something about the way she said it.

Yuri still grappled with a truth too dangerous to take in. He just watched the princess in his arms, realising for the first time how different she looked with her eyes closed. Her hair had turned the colour of peaches under the abnormal sky, and there was something lacking about the colour. Something was missing without the bright shade of lemongrass. She looked like a stranger, and he struggled to remember a more familiar image of her face. The washed out vision before him filled his head and refused to make room for anything else.

And so all he could do was watch closely, grasping after the few tiny signs of life that ghosted her features and knowing, in that bottomless way, that they were dwindling.

Eventually it tweaked in Yuri's brain that Judy hadn't moved from her standstill. When he finally tore his eyes away from Estelle's frozen features, it took another handful of heartbeats before he realised what had stopped her in her tracks.

There was a figure not so far away, standing on the very lip of the melted canyon and slowly scanning the bizarre landscape with horror. She was so hunched and vulnerable that Yuri would never have recognised her if not for the one bony arm squeezing at her horribly bloodied chest.

Elis looked like she'd arrived lost at death's door when she finally pulled her eyes away from the black canyon.

"What have you done?" she managed breathlessly.

Temza had been razed and ruined all over again. What Vesperia's super-heated beam hadn't melted, the small quake caused by Izuna's impact had simply shaken apart. Brave Vesperia was crushing down so close now that the ground was constantly rumbling. It was the end of the world, Estelle was all but gone and Yuri just stood there with nothing but ash on the tip of his tongue. He could only stare.

Judith was equally voiceless. Yuri wondered, after all this, how Elis could have any words left.

"Wh-where's Waylin?" she broke out, head snapping from side to side. "Where is that useless little fool! Where is he?"

Judy didn't move. She stood there with no pretense and no pose, arms motionless by her sides.

"He's dead," she said simply, in a voice that matched her stance. Elis turned wide, shocked eyes on them.

The wind blew little flakes of ash across the view.

"You… You mean it," she said, stunned. Her mortified eyes began to drift, then like watching a window slam shut, her entire face retreated into a scowl. "He… He was always a disappointment. I-I'm not surprised. Good riddance! But… T-Then Jerard! His brother! They knew their duty! Why haven't they stopped this?"

"… They're dead too," Judy replied quietly.

The rumbling filled up the silence in a bone-creaking thrum. Elis' mouth opened and closed over and over again. Yuri took his fill of that blind, confused expression and found it hurt more than it satisfied. He lowered his eyes to Estelle's face instead, then simply adjusted his numb and aching arms around her and began to move past Judy.

"Murderers!" Elis burst out maniacally. When Yuri paused, Judy placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle nudge back in the direction of the next path downwards. There was an untouched alley just past the split house before them, and it wound back out onto the stairs again. The courtyard was close and blinding.  
Whatever survivors there were, they would be heading there.

"Are you happy now?"

They moved slowly but surely. The cobbles slid out from under their heels like glass shards, making the descent slow. With his arms occupied, Judy helped Yuri over the rougher patches by her steely grip on his shoulder.

"Just look around you! You've ruined everything!"

When Yuri stumbled, his arms tightened around the slender body clutched to his chest and the reflex had squeezed some of the still air from her lungs. It whistled cooly against his neck and he grimaced as if it had cut him. She didn't breathe in.

"I have nothing left! It's all over! You've taken _everything _from me!"

The hand on Yuri's shoulder tightened. He didn't realise by how much until he tried to take a step forward.  
Judy had lodged them both in place and was looking out over the view, face turned fractionally towards the bleeding mad woman. She didn't speak, but she did more than Yuri was willing to do by listening.

"I have nothing left," Elis echoed at a rasp. "Nothing. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

The still air went sharp.

"What did you expect?"

The words were hard and tempered as iron. Judy's hair whipped over her expression and, even as it tangled around her slender ears, she made no move to tuck it aside.

"What do you- Isn't it obvious? This victory was not meant to be yours," Elis moaned. The grip that remained on Yuri's shoulder turned painful.

"…Does this look like our _victory _to you?" Judy wondered sadly.

And what a broken picture they must have been. Yuri would have smirked sarcastically at that in other circumstances. He'd have crossed his arms against the scene at any other time.  
But he couldn't remember how to smile, and his arms were full with a woman that would not wake. There was no shield against all that ugly emotion.

"But what about me?" Elis whispered next.

"You have exactly what you built, Elis," the krityan replied finally. "And for your sake… I truly hope it was worth it."

"Enough, Judy," Yuri managed, staring once more at Estelle's still face. "Leave it. I'm done."

He tried to take a step forward, but it wasn't Judy that stopped him this time.

"W-Wait, you have to understand! I-I just wanted her to pay!" Elis broke out, and there was a curious, unstable dip in her voice. Yuri stared at the horizon as his stomach dropped away.

She sounded_ sorry._

He turned back with wide eyes, almost forgetting the woman propped limply in his arms.

"Did… Did I hear that right?" he managed, incredulous. When no one said anything, he glanced around the crackling view to collect the few thoughts he had, then turned back. Elis was as terrified as she was hopeful, like a pious woman helplessly awaiting judgement. She _was _sorry, in a twisted, defeated way. What was she looking for? _Forgiveness? _Yuri shook his head slowly.

"_Pay?_" he echoed. "That's it? Not righting wrongs, not serving justice… Just _pay? _She's been trying to make things right from the beginning, and _that _was your righteous purpose? To make her life miserable?"

"I wanted her to… to know what it was like," Elis breathed.

In truth, it was probably the only thing that someone like the Elis of the Geriaos had to pass on. Just a whole spectrum of pain: from hurt to sickness, fear and loneliness, all the way to grief, guilt and hate. It was a sad and pathetic legacy. Elis had passed on her hate like little gifts to anyone and anything. She just hadn't accounted for one thing.

"You almost did it," Yuri confessed heavily. "Your crusade nearly paid off. You sure made her hurt, I'll give you that. And guilt? Yeah, she probably felt that too…" A smile he didn't have a name for tugged at his lips when he added, "… But hate? Estelle's just not the hating type. And _despite_ what you did to her, and no matter the crap you pulled to do it… She still did the right thing."

And then a hand reached up to grip his collar.

"Yuri," Judy gasped.

Estelle's eyes had opened in a sudden snap. She looked startled and bleary and bewildered, like she had been thrown violently back into consciousness against her will. Her eyes remained still for unfocused moment, then the princess suddenly heaved in a breath so huge that it pushed against the stunned loop of Yuri's arms. She was alive. She lived.

"Look," Judy was insisting, and it wasn't until she gave his shoulder a tug in the right direction that he realised she hadn't meant Estelle.

Every loose stone and pebble on the pathway jumped like spitting oil on a hot pan. Eventually, in some bizarre reversal of gravity, they all began to lift from the earth and drift upwards. The very wind that had been slicing in lengthways across the broken city suddenly curled around and spiralled upwards, taking all the ash and rock with it. Brave Vesperia sucked it all up into its cracking and buckling core, erasing all evidence of the burning and the destruction that had happened below. And as they watched, the raging storm of light slowly began to get smaller and brighter. Before long, all that remained was a tiny little star that glimmered shyly amongst the burning…

It gave a gentle wink, then Brave Vesperia exploded.

It rocked the earth. Each enormous plate of the blastia broke away and went hurtling violently into the atmosphere, erupting immediately into blue flames. Each discarded piece broke up again and again as they tumbled chaotically through the sky, shedding smoke and flame until Terca Lumeries finally ground it all down into super heated dust. And somewhere amongst all of that burning, something _spectacular_ stretched out and rose up, fizzing thousands of little sparks out in all directions.  
The first of the shooting stars struck the earth not so far from where they stood. It had made a high-pitched note that was almost musical when it did; it had left no crater, only a little smudge of bright, glowing light on the dull, dusty ground. The next whistled down over the courtyard, and then the next shot towards the desert. Before long, thousands of little white strings were glittering down over the broken earth, leaving splashes of luminescence where they fell.

They watched the rainfall of light in speechless awe.

One struck Yuri on his arm, shockingly cool in the superheated air. He barely had the presence of mind to turn his shoulder to see, but there was nothing terrible about that touch. It felt like Estelle, warm and tingling as she diligently patched him up after another day's battle. The sensation was so complete that he wasn't even surprised to find the gash across his shoulder had disappeared.

Judy had her eyes closed in wonder when one landed on her cheek, and Estelle finally drew her wide eyes into focus when another grain of diamond struck her leg. She watched the starfall for a moment before sliding her eyes to Yuri's.

"We did it," she said softly. "He's home."

A strangled noise broke through the musical cascade of light.

Elis stared down at the little splotch of glowing light on her chest, hands hovering over it as if it was something unspeakable. It knitted together the gruesome wound down her side in a slow wave of mending. The Record Keeper's mouth opened and closed wordlessly the whole while, fingers curling into claws.

It wasn't until the last remnants of the injury had been smoothed away that Yuri realised the woman's distress.

"No," Elis croaked, mortified.

In a belated shock of movement, she scrabbled and rubbed at the spot of light on her front as if it were a stubborn stain. She was so frantic that she took a step back as if to retreat from it. Her heel came dangerously close to the fissure edge.

"No!" she burst out again.

Her antennae were growing. Even her mutilated ears began to smooth the bulbous scar tissue and push out. Beneath the pink, new flesh, downy tufts of blue began to bristle out from underneath her hair. When the first trailing lengths had touched her shoulders, the skeletal woman managed a shriek and gave up on the glowing spot over her heart.

She viciously tore tufts of feather free in her desperate bid to stop the regenerating antennae, but for every broken plume that she gouged away, more foamed forth. Even the bloody little scratches she left over her cheeks and neck lasted half a second before fading away.

Her sacrifice to Elucifer was steadily coming undone.

"No! Stop it! This was _his_!" Elis shrieked, tearing and hacking at herself. "Stop it, stop it, _stop it_!"

"… Elis, wait," Judy spoke in a low voice. She had been silent up until this point, but suddenly there was a pity in her eyes. She took a step forward.

"_Don't touch me!" _the krityan shrieked in return.

"Don't move, you're too close to the-"

She was ignored. The Last of the Geraios had one growing antenna in both hands, and with a shaking amount of effort and a brutal scream, she managed to snap a length of it off with a wet _crack_. She had the gruesome segment victoriously in her hands as she stumbled back from the sudden lack of resistance.

Elis' foot landed on absolutely nothing. Her expression of triumph didn't so much as flicker as she fell backwards over the black drop. Her wide, exultant eyes were the last thing any of them saw before she disappeared over the melted, charred edge of the bottomless canyon. She was swallowed instantly. Judging from the lack of sound, she never even touched the sides on her way down.

All that was left were a few swirling, broken feathers.

All that was left of the Geraios were a few lingering scars, slowly fading away under the light of a new dawn.

.  
_oOo_  
.

For the second time in his life, Flynn watched on in awe as the world fixed itself in an incredible display of magic. For the second time in his career, he found that once again he had little to do with it.

He held a hand out in a dazed wonder. A single droplet of light hit his palm and marked its spot on the dark leather in pure white. It felt cool. The sensation swept up his arm in a calming wave, reducing the stinging sunburn on his cheeks to nothing.

Sodia's head lifted. She had drawn her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins, forehead dropped to the metal knee-guards. One hand flew to the back of her neck now, light winking between her fingers. Within moments, her dilated eyes slowly shrunk down to normal, more shocked than frightened, more purple than black. Sodia patted herself down with quick, disbelieving motions. Satisfied that every part of her was finally under control, she turned that stunned look on Flynn. He smiled back and gave her a nod.

Witcher was peppered with the sparks when he groaned and sat up. Watching every bruise fade and every little cut knit was like watching him transform. Eventually he realised what was happening, and he scrambled up to stand in an ungainly clutter of limbs; he twisted on the spot to find and study the drops of white. When the mage shakily lifted a hand to adjust his demolished glasses, he blinked hopefully and held the spectacles up to the sky.

A splash of light struck one shattered lens, but did little more than make it even more impossible to see out of.

Witcher put them on anyway, then gave Flynn a rueful grin.

"It was worth investigating," he said sheepishly. Flynn laughed.

There was a subtle shift to his left.

"I-I did something terrible, didn't I?" Sodia wondered, eyes moving restlessly around the charred landscape. She was twisting at her gloved fingers nervously, looking shamefaced and chastised, and eventually the only place she could let her eyes rest without guilt was the sparkling sky. Above her, the after image of a pair of enormous wings was fading against the chaotic cloud.

"It's alright, lieutenant," Flynn said softly. He took pity on that awkward twist to her lips, so he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. She flushed. "There was nothing you could have done differently. I don't think the Imperial Forces even have training for the type of enemy we just faced. It's alright."

"Anyway," Witcher said, squinting out of his blinding glasses, "this new node in the mana network functions remarkably like the princess' personal formula. I don't even ache anymore. I would go so far as to say it was almost like it never happened."

The glittering rain continued to patter across the broken landscape.

"So it's over," Sodia said with a heartfelt sigh.

Flynn smiled again, proud.

"I think it is," he replied. With a relieved laugh, he added, "You know, I think it's safe to say that we'll have no more unpleasant surprises from Brave Vesperia."

.  
_oOo_  
.

The mana transmitter whirred and hissed as it slowed down and began to fold itself back up again. The little hoplon core that had perched on its central spire was split cleanly down the middle, and its pieces had fallen to the dusty ground. The halves were grey. It was officially dead.

Rita's arms dropped right through her input panel, and she the last thing she saw before her eyes slid shut was the keys winking out gratefully.

Estelle had done it. There was a new Spirit on Terca Lumereis, and it had disintegrated the pieces of Brave Vesperia when it was only four minutes from breaching atmosphere. Mission accomplished. They had a job to do, and it had gotten a little messy in the end there… but they had done it.

The iron grip of self control that had kept Rita crunched up over her work slipped away from her then, and she eased herself down against Raven's bunched jacket with finality. She grunted in annoyance when she felt him carefully shift her into his lap instead, but the motion was over soon enough and she was able to sink back into that blissful silence.

Suddenly there was time to nurse the deep and disturbing hurt in her side.

Raven had bound her middle too tightly for comfort. It compressed the pain out wide and flat so that it prickled constantly at her ribs and hips. It would probably take a bit of strength to undo whatever knot he'd tied, and Rita didn't have the energy to deal with it. Instead, she focused on her slightly erratic heartbeat, trying to keep it steady, hoping to make it stronger. She had almost done as much when something cool touched her stomach. Rita sluggishly pulled together enough willpower to open her eyes.

The pain had begun to ebb even before she'd managed to. Unsurprisingly, her entire stomach was one big blood splotch and it had stained the olive material of her scarf black. A single point of brilliant light was glowing there.

Rita sat up slightly in alarm, then was equally shocked that she could do so quickly and painlessly. She clapped a hand over the blooming light and glanced up.

Raven looked as shocked as she did. Behind him, the sky was a network of tiny glowing strings that zipped and flashed down to the earth like miniature shooting stars. Rita gaped at the spectacle, baffled. She was so stunned that she didn't even resist when Raven carefully took her hand and eased it away.

He just looked, for a moment. And then with a strangely suspicious frown, he touched a finger to her middle and applied the smallest amount of pressure.

It wasn't painful, just annoying.

Rita wiggled a little when he carefully began to unknot the tourniquet, and she knew she still had enough blood left when she blushed at the ease in which he unwound her belt from her waist. She gripped his bare shoulder for balance when the last of it was tugged aside, and then there was no room for anything but surprise.

Her researcher's jacket was shredded on one side, but the only thing the stringy gap revealed was pale, healthy skin. Eventually Rita's shock gave way to the sudden realisation that Raven was staring suspiciously at her semi-naked stomach.

"T-There, see?" she broke out loudly, trying for arrogant and failing. "I _told _you there was nothing to worry about. I-I had things in control. No reason to get all melodramatic-"

The corner of Raven's mouth pinched slightly in an unconvinced grimace. Patiently, he slid his fingers past the torn cloth and prodded curiously at her flesh with all the decorum of a doctor. Rita nearly bit down on her tongue. He didn't stop his invasive poking until the entire expanse of the old wound had been covered, and then he lifted his hand to her neck.

It wasn't until his eyes had turned aside in concentration that Rita realised he was checking her pulse.

"I-I-I said I was fine, Old Man," Rita stuttered.

"I'll be the judge of that," he replied impassively, then swept his hand up past her cheek. One callused thumb pressed to her eyebrow and he tilted her head back; he loomed over her as he checked the dilation of her eyes, and suddenly all her words fizzled out somewhere en route through her throat.

"Hmm," Raven said.

His fingers shifted away from her face and cupped the base of her skull instead. Rita was breathing a sigh of relief when he suddenly bent down and touched his lips to hers.

She gave a small start, but both his hand and the determined press of that kiss were uncompromising. It wasn't until she unfroze that Raven's lips became gentle, and he pulled back slightly to meet her wide eyes.

"… So I want ya ta promise me one thing," he began, close enough for the words to brush her skin.

Rita could only stare at him.

"Next time ya find yourself running off ta save the world and right all wrongs like it's your job or somethin', just…" He gave a whole-hearted sigh. "… Just spare this old man a little thought, would ya? _Try_ ta take better care of yourself? That's all I ask."

All the witty, angry, petulant rebuttals in the world fell to nonsensical pieces in her brain. Even her pride evaporated under the colour of cyan, and Rita was left with nothing but the tingling sensation on her lips and the tickling ends of his hair across her face.

"O-Okay," she managed stupidly.

Raven smiled then, a little amused, mostly relieved.

"Good," he replied. With a sudden shift, he picked himself up with her still in his arms, then set her gently on her feet. Rita wobbled a little. She flushed again when she had to fling an arm over his bare shoulders for balance.

He waited for her to steady herself before stooping to pick up his jacket and shirt.

"Right, let's get outta here," Raven said with a sigh. He took her hand and, strangely, it didn't occur to Rita to pull away. "I think I've seen enough of this damn mountain ta last me several lifetimes."

She found herself agreeing.

.  
_oOo_  
.

People were beginning to arrive at the entrance to Temza's township in droves. The soldiers and guildsmen had finally arrived in their platoons, and the medics had set up a station by the first of the destroyed houses. It was a pointless gesture, considering that the starfall had only just finished speckling the landscape half an hour ago.

Judith sat on the wall of her old house, heels tapping slowly against the old stone. It felt like the only place for her to be, now that it was all over. All around her, friends were being reunited. Flynn had been waiting when Judith, Yuri and Estelle had arrived, and his face had lit up like day. He and Yuri had gripped each other's shoulder in a gesture that obviously meant more than just a congratulatory pat, and even the playful slug Yuri gave Flynn's arm afterwards looked more like an embrace. Through it all, they had shared a twin smile that made them look like brothers.

Estelle had wept openly when Rita finally arrived at the clearing, looking docile and flustered as Raven led her there by hand. The princess had swept the young mage up in a crushing hug and, adorably, Rita lasted only a few seconds of grouchy blushing before tears began to well up in her eyes as well. When no amount of blinking cleared them, she shoved her face into Estelle's shoulder to hide them and gripped her best friend for dear life.

Raven looked like a different man with his jacket on and no pink shirt. Even when the wind plucked at the material and revealed a small amount of metal, he simply nodded at Yuri with a vague smile and tipped a lazy salute at Flynn. They welcomed him over with broad grins.

Judith watched them all from the ruins of her father's home.

She had found her old doll underneath what remained of her bed, and she turned the faded ragdoll in her hands idly, letting the yarn of its hair flop and spill over its blank face. She remembered throwing it over the cliff edge for fun once, enjoying the way her dearest friend had shot out of nowhere like a swallow to snatch it up and bring it back. She turned its little button eyes up to the glittering sky now, wondering if she should throw it one last time.

This was an ending, after all.

She had her arm pulled back to do just that. And then Repede trotted up over the final step and into the crowd.

The dog ignored Yuri's shout out. He appeared to be looking for something. He eventually found Judith on her perch, then sat himself down and tossed his head towards the road into town once he had her attention. He was yawning around his empty pipe when the next set of individuals followed him up the last of the stairs.

Karol looked exhausted. He was doing his best to carry the load across his shoulders, but his relief couldn't have been clearer when he finally crested the hill and came to a halt at the town entrance. His plaintive groan could be heard over the crowd. Repede rose to his paws once more and, surprisingly, his tail began to wag.

The figure with an arm draped over Karol's shoulder was big. Not fat or overly burly, just large, like someone had taken a strong young man and scaled him up slightly out of proportion. He was wearing a mash of imperial and guild wear over a swathe of bandages, and there was no mistaking the krityan blue of his long, flowing hair. His antennae, longer and flatter than was usual, were especially unique. They were a cloudy white that ended in a bright, sunny yellow.

The doll dropped from Judith's hands.

The crowd was barely there when she slid down and began to force herself through it. Estelle called out to her at some point, but she barely heard that either. All she saw was that bizarre silhouette against the new sky. Karol saw her coming first, and his face broke out into the biggest of grins.

"_Judy!_" he burst out ecstatically. "Judy, look! Can you believe it? I-I wasn't even _sure_ at first, but then Undine was there and she told him how Khroma did it, and this way I could bandage him up myself! A-and he can even eat some normal food like this so he won't starve and-"

Karol blurred in her vision when Judith threw herself past him and onto the lumbering figure at his side. The krityan man staggered, unfamiliar with his feet, then eventually righted himself and awkwardly pressed the flat of his hand against her back. He was so big that she dangled a little from his neck.

"Oh, my friend," Judith exhaled, chest too full of joy to allow for air. "Oh, my dearest friend. You have no idea how glad I am."

Glad was an understatement. The sky was a thrilling space of colour and light and sound when she pulled away, complete once more. It framed him beautifully, and she raised a hand to his cheek to admire this new face.

"Let me look at you… Oh yes, very handsome. How do you feel?" she wondered, only vaguely aware that she was crying.

"I'm hungry," Ba'ul confessed, dark eyes soft and boyish with embarrassment. Judith laughed, then gave his broad chest a pat.

"Of course, I'm sure someone has some cooking supplies. Let me fix that for you," she replied.

It _was _an ending, but it was bright and wonderful and it was more than she could possibly have ever wished for.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Much later in the evening, when the sun had gone down and left a spattering of stars in its wake, Estelle sat on the steps that lead into the township and admired the night.

The expedition to cross Desier and leave the mountain behind for good was scheduled for the morning. There was no ship to fly them back, and the military rush meant that no one had put much thought into caravans to make the trip home easier. Witcher had sent word electronically to Mantaic, and the people there had agreed to send aid half way tomorrow. The decision gave everyone some time to rest.

It was a little eerie spending the night at a place that had been so terrifying only hours before, but Estelle found she didn't mind so much.

The stars had never looked so innocent or beautiful. They were brighter, she was sure of it, and every wink they gave was a cheeky little gift to her. The view was a little different without Brave Vesperia sitting like a jewel on the planet's crown, but it wasn't really a loss. Now that its bright glow was gone, it was easier to see the cluster of stars around it. Idly, Estelle lifted a finger and drew shapes over the new gap, inventing a few constellations of her own.

She was penning in the last imaginary line on her phoenix when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Got a name for him yet?"

Yuri sat himself down beside her with a lazy _whump_, rubbing at his neck as if it ached.

"Yes," Estelle confessed. "I thought about it a lot, but I think I've decided."

She raised both hands to the sky and fanned her fingers out, thumb-tip to thumb-tip in a cheap imitation of wings.

"Brother and guardian of the first light, Aska."

"Aska," Yuri echoed. "Nice."

They stared up at the clean, empty sky in a companionable silence. Behind them, the sound of the makeshift camp and the celebration there filled the night with warmth. Estelle closed her eyes and listened, trying to pick out her friends' voices from the thrum. It was impossible to do. She tried anyway. Something brushed over her hair and she opened her eyes slowly, not willing to break the tranquillity.

Her mother's memento had settled over her chest like it had never left it, dirt free and intact.

Yuri leant back on his palms after placing it there, one knee raised casually. It had been such a heinous twenty-four hours and he simply didn't show the slightest sign of having weathered through it. Estelle tore her eyes from his relaxed visage and, thoughtfully, touched the pendant that hung from her neck. Once she had it recommitted it to memory, she gently slid it back under the collar of her overdress.

"Thank you," she said, turned slightly to face him better.

"I think that's my line," Yuri replied with a roguish smile. "Not sure what I would have done without it. It… it really helped. So thanks, Estelle. I mean it."

He was genuine. Though he hadn't met her eyes, she could still see the echo of something haunted and guilty in them. He had always been the kind of man to wade into the darkness for the greater good. Estelle wondered now just what he saw when he was in there. She wondered what he had faced in her name, what sort of things he'd seen or heard.

With a shy little shuffle, she scooted herself closer until their hips bumped.

"I've put you through so much, Yuri," she said softly, leaning in. "You worked so hard even though no one was around to help when it mattered most. W-Was it a terrible burden? You can tell me if you like."

He was taken aback. Yuri stared at her in genuine surprise, eyes wide. He simply watched her for a moment before slowly breaking out in a grin. He tipped his head gently, cocksure and casual.

"C'mon Estelle, you make it sound like a chore. Sure, things got a little rough in places, especially when I thought you had… Well, you get the picture. But it wasn't a _burden. _I just did what I had to do."

"Oh. Your duty," Estelle breathed, running her eyes over his face. He returned the look with a small mote of suspicion.

"Well, not the word I'd have used," he replied carefully.

Maybe not, but Aska's final message came back to her then in a warm, tingling rush. A duty with no burden… She watched him under the new starlight a little longer, searching his face for any sign of complaint or grudge. There was none. He truly did it all without a single regret.  
Estelle smiled instantly, sure for the first time in her life. She was suddenly ready to ask again, mostly because, on some level, she knew the answer regardless of how he replied. Sometimes actions truly did speak louder than words.

She leant over him then, palm resting carefully on his chest.

"Yuri," she said, shuffling closer still. "Do you love me?"

His eyes widened. Only a few days ago, his expression had been serious and sullen when he had thought that question over. Now, shock ebbed away gently and left a much nicer image; the corner of his mouth lifted in a warm, lop-sided smile.

"Yeah," he replied. "Yeah, I do."

Estelle beamed at him. He was smiling even when she shyly leant forward to kiss him, and she felt it against her mouth and even under her palm in the form of a pulse, light and quick and joyous. It took a little while for the expression to fully drop from either of their lips, but they had time. Yuri lifted a hand to cup her cheek, and she raised her own to grip that as well.

They broke apart, and Estelle was right. The starlight was brighter.

She turned back to the view and reclined herself carefully against the slope of his chest.

"If I write this into a novel," Estelle began, "I don't think anyone will believe me."

"No one believed the last one," Yuri pointed out, voice a deep rumble against her ear.

"I suppose so." She thought a little about it, then added, "I'll have to do it, of course. The storyteller in me simply can't resist. And I _tried_ writing another story, you know, but somehow the things that happen to us are always so much more exciting. I'm not sure I can compete with secret brothers or forgotten dynasties."

Yuri laughed, then managed a one-shouldered shrug.

"Well, how about this;" he said, "the next time you run out of ideas, we go and stir up some other world-ending catastrophe, save a few cities and voila. New best seller."

"Yuri!" Estelle admonished, twisting around to pout at him. "Honestly, you talk as if you wouldn't mind that at all!"

He smiled at her then, impossibly handsome under the moonlight. With a fleeting look of wonder, he tipped his head in her direction until the height of his cheek bone touched her brow.

And all she saw was that smile and a pair of slate eyes, full of a future she had only just realised was hers.

"Estelle, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: And there we have it.**

**Not so sure long chapters sit so well in my head, but I felt all the bits were necessary bits. Necessary components of a happy ending; did you expect me to deliver anything less? Thank you very, very much for reading, and please stay tuned for the epilogue.**


	29. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

.  
_oOo_  
.

A month passed, and the world continued to turn without incident.

On the southern end of the Ilyccia continent, something big was taking place in the Grand Ballroom of Zaphias Castle. The hall was decked with as much expense and extravagance as it could possibly take, the world's largest chandelier strung imposingly above all that gold and alabaster, forever winking light across the lavish room.  
On this cool spring night, it had traded its legions of aristocrats and nobles for a different crowd. For the first time in many, many years, Zaphias Estate had opened its doors to the rich, poor, imperial and guild man alike.

Ioder's engagement had been the talk of the town since its announcement. His fiancé, Lady Clarin, was a court favourite from a house that was known and respected by everyone who mattered, and she had personally invited most of Zaphias' nobility.

She had welcomed every one of them with a charming smile and the blushing Emperor at her elbow… And more than one noble choked on their chardonnay when she had then gone and seized one of Guild Leader Kaufman's hands in both of hers for a vigorous shake. She might as well have stripped down and started dancing in her underwear when she greeted Clint of the Hunting Blades with a hearty slap on the back. Ioder simply smiled in that vague, pleased way of his the whole while, totally unaffected by the collective look of horror from his court.

From his place near the empty throne dias, Yuri watched on and grinned. The Empire's future Queen may have been as forgettable as one of the big floral displays placed around the room, but there was a strange little glint of delight in her eyes whenever she stirred up another social scandal.

"Looks like Ioder's got his hands full," Yuri said with a smirk, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"I'm glad you find this funny," Flynn sighed. "You're not the one who has to attend the Council meetings." He gave a fixed smile to some passersby, then went back to frowning into his wine glass.

He was in his special dress uniform, something with altogether too many layers, crests, cords and arbitrary medals for Yuri's taste. Flynn wore it well of course, and not even the cravat could make him look less of soldier. He placed his unfinished wine on flower laden side table, then dropped the hand to rest on the display rapier hanging from his hip.

"I just hope we can survive the evening without incident," he said under his breath.

Yuri plucked a strange little pastry from a passing silver tray, then tossed it into his mouth with as much disrespect as he could.

"Incident?" he echoed around the mouthful of something bland, "Just what kind of incident are we talking about here? Throwing some au d'oeuvres? Fisticuffs? Relax Commandant, we're all civilized adults here, right?"

Flynn's eyes were already narrowed. Yuri grinned at him and deliberately and loudly licked each finger clean.

"Yuri, _please _be on your best behaviour," the blonde urged through his teeth.

"Where's your sense of fun, Flynn? All these stuffy, gullible, unsuspecting nobles... At least let me spike the punch," he replied devilishly.

And then Flynn tugged his ludicrous vest straight and gave Yuri a pointed look.

"If not for _me, _then behave for Estellise. She organised most of this, and I'd hate to see those efforts ruined. Wouldn't you?"

It was a cheap trick. Yuri turned his face aside to stare blandly over the colourful crowd.

"You're a killjoy, you know that right?" he muttered, already defeated. Flynn chuckled.

The ocean of silk and pleasant conversation shifted around them restlessly, and it wasn't long before Karol drifted his way across the enormous ballroom floor, looking incredibly overwhelmed and lost. They watched him wander aimlessly for a few moments before the young man finally caught sight of Flynn and sagged with relief.

It had been made perfectly clear that it was a formal wear event, but Karol had done it in true Dahngrest style. The outfit was as formal and official as the guild city was capable of; Brave Vesperia's enormous emblem was constructed in various shades of cured leather on the back of his expensive tunic, stitched in place by silver thread. The tabard marked him as a member of the official Union. He looked like a leader.

He arrived at an exhausted stagger.

"Wow, I-I seriously thought I was gonna wander around forever until I died," he managed breathlessly, ruining the effect instantly. "Does the castle really need a room this big? You could fit Nam Cobanda Isle in here!"

"His Highness is very popular," Flynn replied proudly. "We needed a venue that could fit everyone we invited."

"Yeah but... I mean, I can barely see the far wall! And there's an ice sculpture back there the size of a house!" Karol managed next, squinting around the ocean of people. "Estelle said engagements should be special, but seriously. An _orchestra_?"

And then Flynn made a small sound of surprise.

"That reminds me!" he suddenly said. With a fair amount of effort, the Commandant managed to push a hand into the stiff and undersized pocket on his dress uniform. "Sodia picked it up from the smith today, but so much else was on I must have set it aside and forgot about it. Why didn't you remind me, Yuri? You're so careless sometimes, I don't know how you've gotten this far."

"Remind you of what now?" Yuri asked, only half listening. Karol had reminded him that the others were probably around. He hadn't seen them yet, but their company would be a million times better than the pompous, inbred aristocrasy that seemed to press in from every direction.  
Beside him, Flynn finally pulled something free of the pocket with a short tug, then held it out to Yuri with a bright smile.

The little velvet box was the colour of champagne, its tiny gold hinge bright against the dark leather of Flynn's gloves.

Yuri snatched it away in an instant.

"Dammit, Flynn! Not _here,_" he managed, too late. Despite how quick he'd been, Karol still gaped like a goldfish at the empty space between them. Out of pure habit, Yuri moved the offending item towards the fold in his tunic... then remembered that this stupid uniform they'd forced him into didn't have a convenient fold, overlap or even any sizable pockets.

"W-was that- was that what I thought it was?" Karol stammered, loudly enough to make a few socialites turn away from their conversations to stare. Yuri stared right on back until they turned away in a huff, then shot his guild-master a pointed look.

"Drop it, Captain," he warned.

"But I wasn't seeing things, right?"

"No," Flynn said brightly, just as Yuri bit out, "Sure you were."

Karol slowly turned his eyes between them, then, when Yuri refused to elaborate, dropped his eyes down to the tight fist currently hiding the fuzzy little box. The guild master reached a hand out. Yuri evaded the grab easily.

"Aw, what gives? Flynn can see, but I can't? I'm not totally untrustworthy you know!" the young guild-master complained, attempting another swipe. "I mean, this is serious stuff, right? I thought we were tighter than that!"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Believe me Karol, it took him long enough to ask for advice," Flynn muttered under his breath.

"Come on, guys," Yuri said expansively, attempting to be cavalier. "Do you really need to make a scene-" Karol finally managed to catch the offending fist and began to pry at Yuri's fingers. "H-hey, what the hell?"

The tiny tug of war was over before it began; with so many sneering nobles eyeballing them, Yuri eventually released his death-grip and, holding his hand palm up before him, he constructed the best disinterested look he could manage and angled it over his shoulder. This shouldn't have been as embarrassing as it was.

The box lay on its side in the cup of his hand, and without picking it up, Karol leant in closer and very carefully righted it. With the barest of fingertips, he gently cracked the lid open and peered inside.

"Holy cow!" he all but shouted, eyes wide as saucers.

"Jeez, is it that big a deal?" Yuri managed, bristling in pure discomfort.

"Of course it is!" Karol burst out. "This is crazy! I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"What's crazy?" a familiar voice asked.

Karol made a small '_oof_' when Yuri suddenly shoved his hand (and its contents) at his chest in a sudden rush. And even as the guild-master tried to right himself and hide what was left against his tunic, Yuri turned and pulled a smile into place.

Estelle was in her element, and it showed. She wore a gown of off-white, beige and gold, and small pieces of yellow gemstone had been stitched into the lace. A simple gold chain with a pearl on it was laid across her collarbone. She was beautiful.  
What stood out the most, however, wasn't the silk or jewellery. It was the single white streak at her forelock, a remnant of her battle for Aska's freedom, and it had been swept artfully up into her styled hair by a pearled pin.

The shock of white had been a surprise. Estelle had been embarrassed and self conscious about the small loss of colour when it had first shown itself. She had spent days wondering if she should dye it or just cut it out. He'd asked her not to. It was the colour of moonlight after all, and now, with it shown off instead of hidden, it looked more like a tribute and less like a scar.

She caught him staring and smiled shyly.

"Sorry to interrupt, we heard you talking," she said while he tried to gather his thoughts again. "Is something wrong?" she added, concerned.

Yuri slid carefully in front of Karol, just as the guild-leader whipped his hands behind his back.

"Uh, we were just talking about the turnout, right Captain?" Yuri lied effortlessly, then gave Ioder a nod. "Pretty impressive party you've put together, your highness." The Emperor simply beamed at them.

"Thank you! I must admit, I'm enjoying myself immensely! I'm very glad you were able to make it, as I'm sure it was a long trip from Dahngrest without your usual... um... means of transport."

"It doesn't matter how we travel, so long as we're together. _All _of us," Estelle said fondly, flashing them a dazzling smile.

"Ah yes, the infamous team of adventurers," the Emperor said next with a vague, wistful smile. When he brought his attention back to the present once more, a sheepish blush had settled on his pale cheeks. "Ahem, speaking of which. I-I'm afraid that all my Lady knows of you is what she read in the Tale of Vesperia. Lady Clarin is a big fan. I... I've been instructed – pardon me – _asked _if I could introduce you all."

"You don't say," Yuri replied through a fixed grin, flapping his hand at Karol behind his back.

"You too, Flynn!" Estelle added with a smile. "She's really very kind, you'll like her!"

"Oh, I'm sure her highness is very busy-" Flynn began, but Estelle seized him by the hand and gave him a determined tug.

"Don't be silly," she said as she looped her other arm through Yuri's. "And you, Karol!"

Yuri found himself pulled inexorably forward, bumping shoulders with an equally powerless Flynn Scifo.

"B-But, Yuri!" Karol managed. "What about-"

Yuri turned just enough to cross a hand emphatically over his neck a few times until Karol took the hint. The guild-master snapped his mouth shut abruptly, then retreated a step with his hands firmly behind his back.

"I-I'll be right behind you guys... in a minute," he managed with the world's toothiest, most unconvincing grin. "I-I just gotta... go, uh, drop something off."

Luckily enough, Estelle was far too polite to inquire. She only made Karol promise to come meet the future Queen, then gave Yuri and Flynn a synchronised tug that caused them both to stumble.

Surprisingly, it was a little bit of a relief to leave Karol behind with the expensive little secret in his hand. Yuri kept the guild-leader in sight for as long as the colourful crowd would allow, but then suddenly Estelle slipped a gloved hand into his for a squeeze. All that was left was her enthusiastic chatter, Flynn's secretive, unimpressed look at him over her head, and Ioder's vague, slightly knowing smile.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Karol watched the four of them walk away. He stood there quietly for a moment, struggling with his curiosity. It wasn't long before he gave up and lifted his hand again.

The velvet box made a pleasant noise when it snapped open, and the ring inside twinkled prettily under the warm light. It was a really nice ring. Nothing flashy, like Karol would have picked, just sort of simple and elegant. The clear stone had been cut to perfection. It was fine work, and he grudgingly conceded that the Soul Smiths wouldn't have done as nice a job. That was probably why Yuri had asked Flynn in the first place.

It was a big deal, regardless of what Yuri said... and how had Karol wound up holding on to it?

The young guild-leader snapped the box shut and, without an empty pocket to keep it safe in, folded it up in both hands to hide it from curious eyes. That didn't make the secret any less colossal, so he glanced around the hall for someone to tell.

The atrium was gigantic and everyone had dressed for the occasion. That made it shockingly hard to find anyone in a roaming crowd full of gowns and dress suits and uniforms. Eventually, after a short while of aimless wandering, Karol thought he recognised a particular shade of auburn hair over the other side of the room, then began to work his way towards it.

The crowds were much thinner on this side of the grand hall, which is probably why Karol found Rita and Raven there. They stood beneath an enormous oil painting that was at least ten feet tall, its gilt frame draped in crimson curtains, and they had obviously made themselves at home under its larger than life shadow.

Karol wasn't sure if it was the imposing portrait of the intimidating Emperor or the antisocial look on Rita's face that kept the party at bay, but there was definitely a miniature bubble of privacy there.

Raven was looking preternaturally neat in his new uniform. There was something in the way he stood there, all ease and confidence and very little slouch at all. Rita was stranger still, though it took a while for Karol to figure out why. She had both hands on her hips in her usual show of arrogance, and she had chosen a burgundy dress that, despite the feminine and flattering cut, was weirdly reminiscent of her usual clothes. She'd even left her hair down, unpinned and unstyled in typical Mordio defiance.  
It wasn't until she said something to Raven that made him chuckle that it became clear. Rita was monitoring the crowds around her with all of her usual scorn and distaste… but with none of her customary discomfort. There had always been something combative and awkward about her, like the entire world was hustling in on her personal space. Without it, she looked older.

Raven was taking a sip of his drink when he caught sight of Karol; with a welcoming grin, the First Captain motioned him over with a small wave of the hand. Karol gratefully approached that secluded little space under the regal portraiture.

"Well if it isn't our illustrious leader," Raven said to him with a strange smile. "... You wear that well, Cap'n. The Don would be proud."

Karol had all but forgotten that he'd decided to wear the official guild leader's tabard. He blushed suddenly, self conscious.

"Hahah, oh yeah… It's not too flashy?" he wondered, scratching at the back of his head with his free hand. Raven only grinned.

"Nah, have you seen some of the getups 'round here? Besides, a Union emblem has _gravitas_," he replied. As if reminded of his own new outfit, Raven pulled a face and then hooked a finger in the high collar to tug uselessly. The New Order's uniform was pretty impressive, but the tall, stiff collar had been done all the way up to the chin and it was obviously bordering on uncomfortable. "Kinda wish I was back in guild gear myself… It's not as bad as what Scwhann had to put up with, but I tells ya, someone out there _wanted _this ta chafe."

Rita rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

"Would you stop going on about that damn collar?" she demanded in pure frustration. "How about, _for a change, _you quit complaining and actually do something about it!" Then without waiting for him to do as much, she reached up and grabbed the ornate zipper on his coat. She pulled it down with an abrupt and angry tug, far enough to reveal the dip of his collar bone and the dark leather chest-guard underneath. Raven yelped and, in girly obstinacy, half twisted away with both arms crossed modestly over his chest.

"Rita-darlin'," he wheedled coquettishly, "not in front of the _kids_!"

Rita went red, bristling at the mischievous little smirk on the older man's face. Karol watched them both dryly.

"... I will never get used to this," he confessed aloud.

"No one asked you!" Rita snapped furiously, just as Raven dropped a placating hand on her bare shoulder and laughed.

That his hand remained there without her driving her knee into his groin was easily the strangest thing Karol had ever seen. That it somehow reduced her agitated scowl into a grudging pout was a miracle.

Karol was still staring owlishly when Raven ducked his head down and, closer to their height, gave a conspirative smile. His eyes were lodged on something over Karol's shoulder.

"A word of advice, kiddo?" he murmured knowingly.

"Huh? Advice?" Karol wondered, confused.

"Remember ta breathe. And try ta think a little before speakin'."

Karol wasn't sure if he should be confused or really, really insulted.

"When do I ever say stuff without thinking?" he demanded, indignant. Raven cleared his throat and pointed.

"Hi, Karol," said a familiar voice over his shoulder.

When Karol turned around and found Nan standing really, really close, his lungs tried to function in reverse and he choked on the confused air halfway up his throat. Terrified that he'd get spittle on her, he clapped a hand over his mouth and took a step back. Rita gave him an irate shove when he almost stepped on her.

"Y-you!" Karol wheezed through his fingers. "What are _you_ doing here?"

He vaguely heard Raven heave a resigned sigh.

"I-I was invited!" Nan shot back indignantly, blushing furiously under his disbelieving stare.

She was in a _dress_. A pretty one, the kind that you never saw in Dahngrest because shimmery, bunched material was never cheap, comfortable or practical. It was a bottle green colour that seemed to shift to gold and dusky purple under the light, and she'd woven beads and feathers into her hair. Her scars, pale on tanned skin, were barely noticeable over her arms.

"What?" she managed, shoulders hunched against his blank stare, "Do… Do I look dumb?"

"N-No, no, I like your… uh… dress thing," Karol sputtered stupidly. To salvage that graceless reassurance, he desperately tried to think of something that the metallic, shimmering green reminded him of. "It- it makes you look like… um… like a Quoi beetle."

Nan's face went blank. Oh god, did he _really_ just say that?

"Ugh, put him out of his misery," he heard Rita mutter behind him.

"Say, that's a pretty fine lookin' necklace you've got there," Raven interjected loudly over Karol's shoulder. "Can't say I've seen a stone like that before – jade, jasper?"

Nan's face cleared suddenly, and she blinked her eyes a few times before dropping them to the pendant dangling from its silver chain. It glittered prettily. The only thing that suited it better than the opalescent dress she wore were her eyes; Karol went red the same instant she did.

"P-Peridot," Nan managed. "It was… a birthday present."

She lifted both hands to it and fiddled with the green gem, lips pursed in discomfort. Eventually, as if it took some time to wrangle the words, she lifted her bashful gaze and met Karol's eyes. "Um, I wanted to talk to you. Are you busy?"

Yuri's secret was still clutched tightly in his fist. If not for his gloves, Karol would have completely destroyed the velvet with his sweat by now. As it was, he felt he might have caved in the lid for all his anxious squeezing, and he pried his fingers loose one by one to stare at it.

It looked a lot bigger and heavier than it actually was.

"Uh, I have to hold onto this for Yuri," he began awkwardly. "It's… for Estelle and it's kinda a big deal so-"

The little box was swiped from his hand suddenly.

"This is just _painful_. Go already, idiot!" Rita snapped, then gave Karol an acrimonious shove. He swung his arms around to avoid careening into Nan, but she dodged easily and, once he'd righted himself, she reached out and gripped his hand. Despite the angry expression on her face, there was something shy about the way she tugged at his fingers.

She was really close, all of a sudden.

The box and the ring within evaporated from memory.

"O-Okay," Karol managed, heart hammering in his ribcage.

Raven and Rita thankfully refrained from saying anything horribly humiliating when Nan began to move away, but Karol still felt like his kneecaps were fused on backwards when he was led firmly through the milling crowds. He was quite a bit taller than her now, and when she turned to steal a glance at him, he noticed that the sun had peppered her nose with freckles. They were cute. Distractingly so, and how long had it been since he'd seen her last? Shouldn't he have noticed something like that sooner?

"Okay," Nan said abruptly, coming to a halt. She'd marched them both to another vaguely empty section of wall space, this one decorated with enormous flower displays. With a huge flourish of chrysanthemums at her back, she turned and gave him an appraising look. Karol was still staring at her freckles.

And then she slugged him in the arm.

"_That_ was for sending me my present instead of visiting me!" she said angrily.

"Ow!" Karol managed, rubbing at his bicep. When he dropped his hand to explain, she slugged him in the same spot again with vicious accuracy.

"And _that _was for not running away when I told you to! I heard what happened at Temza! Karol, you nearly died!"

"Ow, stop hitting me!" he managed. "I-I couldn't run, Nan! It was serious!"

Her knuckles drove another knot of agony into his deepening bruise.

"I don't care! That's for not considering how I felt at all!"

Karol had both arms wrapped around his torso to protect as much of his thundering bruise as he could. It was exactly why he was defenceless when she reached up and grabbed both of his ears.

She pulled him down into a kiss, and the world turned without incident under his feet.

"T-that was for the necklace," she stuttered once she'd pulled away. "A-and for remembering my birthday. And for everything else."

Karol wavered forward, trying to find gravity again.

"You kissed me," he said stupidly. Nan, impossibly, went even redder. "On the mouth," he continued, in case she'd made a mistake.

"So? Wasn't it good enough?" Nan burst out, fingers a little painful around his ears. Karol didn't care. He let go of his own aching arm to curl his hands around her wrists. She'd just begun to pull away, but he caught her in time.

"C-Can you do it again?" he stuttered, and despite Raven's advice, he didn't have the brain power to find better, more tactful words for what was foremost in his head. Fortunately, Nan didn't seem to mind.

She hesitated for a second, face pinched into an embarrassed frown. Then with a fluttering little look, she visibly swallowed and gave a tiny nod.

"Okay," she mumbled through lips he couldn't drag his eyes from. "I guess you've earned it."

.  
_oOo_  
.

"Ah, young love," Raven sighed fatuously as they watched the disastrous couple disappear into the party. Rita wasn't sure why he said it with such admiration. 'Young love' appeared to be _incredibly _annoying, and she couldn't have been happier that Karol had taken his cascade of concentrated failure somewhere else.

When the pair were safely lost in the crowd, Rita turned her eyes down to the soft little cube in her hand. She hadn't really thought about it when she'd grabbed it, but curiosity definitely got the better of her now. Raven's hand finally slid from her shoulder and returned flat against her back instead, but she ignored the little shiver that created and carefully opened the box in her hand.

A diamond glittered back out at her, set artfully in a laurel of white gold.

"Wouldja look at that," Raven said softly, not sounding surprised in the least.

There was no mistaking what it was. It was an _engagement _ring. For Estelle. From Yuri. Rita just stared, suddenly not all that comfortable about holding it, or looking at it, or thinking about it. Despite that, she couldn't tear her eyes from the faceted stone.

Somewhere deep down inside, they'd all expected that it would happen eventually. But for Rita, it had been part of a future that wasn't _now_, something that was supposed to happen in the hypothetical later. It occurred to her that two world-endangering adventures might be enough to push Yuri into thinking about that future. It also reminded her that she hadn't.

What was she going to do now? Rita had just assumed that when she went back to researching mana, she'd have her best friend around to help her do so. Even if Estelle somehow convinced Yuri to live in Halure, Rita didn't think she'd be a welcome gate-crasher in a newly-weds life.  
Rita looked at that unassuming little box and saw disturbing change within.

She shivered.

"Well, it's about time," Raven was saying, callused fingertips rough on her bare skin. "I was beginnin' ta wonder."

… And had anyone had words with Yuri yet? Did he know how lucky he was, or how much Estelle needed someone to look out for her, to look after her? Did he know how spectacularly he could mess this up? Someone was going to have to explain that to him. Rita decided then that it was going to be her.

"If he hurts her," she said in a low voice, "they'll be finding pieces of him in Yurzorea."

There was a small chuckle in her ear.

"Love n' hurt tend ta walk hand in hand, Rita-darlin'," Raven said in that sweeping way of his. "Can't have one without the other. After all, ya only know it's _real _love when the hurt is worth it."

… And there was that stupid folksy philosophy.

"I'm just saying," she shot back, twisting the box curiously under the light. "If he was stupid enough to take _this _long, he could be stupid enough to mess it up." The diamond glittered at her again. "… But I guess it's not a bad ring. As far as rings go," she conceded grudgingly.

She shivered once more, for another reason.

Raven ran the rough pads of his fingers over her back in small little patterns, making her shoulder-blades shift subconsciously. Her skin tingled along her spine, and her decision to forgo her magi robe for this low-backed dress was suddenly not such a bad decision after all. Her vision unfocused through the scintillating diamond.

"Not a bad ring?" Raven echoed her, still half bent over her shoulder. "That's it? C'mon, Rita, let's be honest now. Somethin' that pretty? A wedding ring is the very symbol of true love and matrimonial bliss, after all… Doesn't the very sight of it set your young maiden's heart all _aflutter_?"

The smug bastard was right in her ear, smelling like summer and a little like the brandy they were serving. Rita gave a shiver, then blushed because he probably felt it under his palm.

She shook her head slightly, then snapped the box shut with finality.

"Don't be stupid," she said flatly. "It's a rock on some frilly bit of metal. And marriage? Do people really need a dumb bit of jewellery or a stupid bit of paper to tell them its okay to be together? Who needs some antiquated old tradition defining relationships, anyway. It's a crock, that's what it is."

Raven's hand had come to deliberate stop at her back. After a stretched pause, he heaved a sigh that ruffled her hair.

"Now ya see, Rita," he said bluntly, snatching the box away from her, "_this_ is why you can't have nice things."

He straightened then, grimacing out over the crowd and tossing the velvet little box idly in his hand.

Rita stole a glance up at him from underneath the fringe of her hair. The uniform tailored for his brand new post suited him disgustingly well; it fit him better, for one thing. His perchance for wearing clothes several sizes too big while Raven was bad enough, but Scwhann had always stuffed himself into regalia that barely gave him the room to breathe let alone swing a sword. He'd also taken to binding his hair back low, instead of high… and Rita found that suited him too.

She frowned up at him, indignant.

"… I… I have nice things," she mumbled.

The velvet case landed back in his hand with a soft _pat_. Raven's eyes were still out over the crowd when the widened a little in realisation, and he turned to her then, obviously surprised. Rita held his gaze for half a second before turning away herself.

She puffed a gust of breath at her suddenly annoying hair, then rubbed at her still tingling neck.

Well, she wasn't going to spell it out for him.

Rita surveyed the party then, anything to keep her mind off the way he shifted next to her, or the way her skin still tickled a little across her shoulders. The music was getting a little louder now that dancing had started, but it wasn't a tune she particularly liked. Watching Zaphias' nobility socialise was about as interesting was watching the grass grow as well. A few glanced her way, but forgot her immediately afterwards. In contrast, more than one lord or lady would pause to give Raven a polite half-bow or curtsey. He smiled vaguely at them in return and offered a courteous nod back, but conversation had very obviously died.

The heavy silence was as distracting as his hands. Rita rolled her shoulders to dislodge the lingering sensation.

Half a minute passed and suddenly the effort felt like a waste of time.

"… Fine. Let's get out of here," Rita muttered through a furious blush, already moving.

"Way ahead of ya," Raven exhaled immediately in pure relief.

Rita tried not to feel relieved when she strode through what remained of the party on their side of the hall and towards and side exit. Raven was right behind her, but just before they pushed through the last of the mob, he caught her elbow and brought her to a halt.

"Whoops, hang on there darlin', just one last thing…"

Rita turned. Raven had raised an arm and waved, once. Over a few heads and beside the buffet table to their left, a familiar woman had caught sight of them and tilted her head curiously.

"Heads up!" Raven called.

And then, as if it were nothing more than a pebble, he threw Yuri's engagement ring with an artful toss.

.  
_oOo_  
.

Judith lifted a hand and caught the little package with ease, blinking her eyes in surprise. She gave it a single glance.

It was a little velvet box. It didn't take much imagination to figure out what it was.

"Hang on ta that for our young Master Lowell, wouldja darlin'?" she heard Raven call out, and the break in propriety turned a few heads. He was grinning like a schoolboy. Judith's lips immediately skewed into a knowing little smirk.

"By all means," she called back. "Leave it to me." She then waved them both away with a flap of her free hand.

Rita looked a little affronted at the whole display, but the expression shifted when Raven placed a hand on her shoulder and ushered her back into motion. She was visibly arguing when they disappeared out the side-door.

Judy turned her eyes back to what she now held.

"Oh my, how exciting," she murmured.

Inside was a stunning gem mounted on a beautiful piece of metalwork. Judith suspected that Yuri had help selecting it, and she wondered if it was Flynn or Hanks that had offered that advice. Judith wished that he had have considered asking her; she'd have enjoyed picking out the most elaborate, expensive pieces Zaphias jewellers had to offer. She admired the ring a little longer, then closed the case. Not to worry. There was bound to be a next time for one of her friends.

The air shifted then, bringing with it a cloud of thick perfume.

Judith glanced up in time to see yet another noble woman sashay not-so-subtly to the buffet table, silk fan waving. The Lady ran her eyes slowly over the selection of pastries, pâtés and pieces of fruit… then stole a glance upwards through impossibly thick eyelashes. They fluttered in time with her fan.

Ba'ul stared back down at the woman, curious and oblivious, mouth full of something expensive and undercooked.

Judith stifled a laugh. It had been fun dressing him up in the handsomest guild leathers that she could find. She had even plaited his long, sky-coloured hair before Karol had put his foot down and made her undo it, de-prettifying the transformed entelexeia. Even without the braid, the final result of her polishing had left stunned looks on their friends' faces, and the shock had made Ba'ul's misery and discomfort worth it. Judith had chuckled for hours. In retrospect, perhaps she hadn't really considered the whole evening.

Kritya had always been considered exotic to the sheltered Zaphians. That Ba'ul was the tallest man in the room by far was definitely turning a few heads.

It had been funny a few hours ago. It was getting a little tiring now.

"Excuse me, miss," Judith interjected sweetly, then slid between her towering friend and the simpering lady. She began to pile her silver platter up with a selection of foods, then speared an oversized strawberry. Ignoring their audience, Judith held the morsel out for Ba'ul. She tried not to grin when the noble woman's expression soured instantly, and she moved away with half the grace of her arrival.

Ba'ul didn't notice a thing; he took the fork clumsily and, mouth still full, gave her a pointed look.

"Oh hush, a little food won't kill you. You need to recover your strength," Judith chided.

Her friend's neat brows pinched unhappily and he dropped his gaze down to the piled tray in dismay.

"Don't be silly, there's always room for desert," she prompted. "Eat, my friend. Eat."

If anything, the mission to clean out the castle's catering distracted him from the fact that there was a constant stream of curious noble women ghosting past the buffet table.

Judith wasn't sure how long Ba'ul was going to stay in this form, but his slow recovery from the very brink of death had been a long and arduous one. It was simply easier for him to mend as a krityan where usual medicines and food could work, and if he still felt uneasy about returning to his true form, who could have blamed him? The decision was entirely in his hands. For Judith, she didn't particularly care what he looked like. As long as he lived and breathed by her side, she simply didn't mind.

Of course, the fact that Ba'ul had taken an unnatural likening to Raven's crepes might have had something to do with his reluctance to revert, and if that was enough of an incentive to stay the way he was, then who was she to judge?

Judith turned the curious little box over in her hands. She wondered what she was expected to do with it, or if Yuri even knew it was missing. It had to be returned, that much was obvious. _How _was a mystery at this point. She wasn't so sure she would be able to find him easily in this enormous hall, and finding him without Estelle close at hand would be harder still. It was a delicate situation that required tact and subtlety.

Ba'ul swallowed his mouthful and stared curiously at the case. Judith smiled at that, then opened it up for him to see. He didn't appear to be any less confused when the diamond ring was revealed.

"It's an engagement ring," she explained. "An old, romantic tradition."

"Is it important?" Ba'ul wondered, sensing her approval. She frowned at him, then pointedly directed his fork to a large cream pastry and gave his arm a mindful tap. He sighed heavily, resigned.

"Yes, I believe it is," she replied belatedly when he had obediently shoved more food into his mouth. "At least, in this case it will be. I'm not sure what to do with it, to be honest. I wonder if I'm expected to deliver it."

And then Ba'ul tilted his head, peering past Judith's shoulder.

"Oh," a familiar voice said. "Is that..?"

Judith turned on the spot a little to find Sodia standing by her elbow.

The lieutenant was staring at the open ring box with surprise, a small glass of punch in her hand. She was in her dress uniform, but a long teal cloak with gold trimming had been wrapped around her shoulders. She looked so surprised that Judith raised her hand to give her a better look.

"Pretty, isn't it?" she said with a smile. She had always suspected that the serious and no-nonsense lieutenant had a secret feminine side, and not for the first time, Judith found herself pitying the woman a little. "I'm afraid it isn't mine. I'm just minding it for someone."

"That's Yuri Lowell's." There was no question in Sodia's voice; she finally lifted her eyes, and it was suddenly obvious that she knew exactly what she was staring at.

Judith frowned, a little insulted.

"Oh," she said, trying not to sound too irritated. "I didn't realise I was the only one who didn't know."

Sodia's mouth dropped open then, and she stammered a little in embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry, I... I was the one who delivered it to the Commandant this morning. I- I was with him only a few minutes ago. I thought he still had it."

Flynn, too? Judith pouted her lips and turned her eyes up to Ba'ul. He had stopped chewing to watch her, concern stapled all too clearly across his face. She held that soft gaze for a moment before releasing her breath and dispelling all her insult with it.

If there was one person in the world Yuri would conceivably trust with something of this nature... it was Flynn Scifo. She shouldn't have been surprised. She shouldn't have been surprised that the secret had slipped through the Commandant's fingers either.

Judith wondered how many of her friends hands this beautiful ring had passed through, drastically veering off course yet somehow always on track.

She realised then that it was time to pass it safely on.

Sodia was still standing there chastised when Judith turned back to her, and to make up for her lack of manners, she gave the women her silkiest smile.

"Say, lieutenant," she said kindly, snapping the little box shut. "I have a favour I'd like to ask of you…"

.  
_oOo_  
.

No one had seen Karol.

Yuri tipped his head back and stared at the expansive, painted ceiling and tried very hard to think.

So his plan had been shot to hell. It happened. Life never went the way it was expected to, which is why Yuri had never thought too hard about tomorrow in case it arrived in a mangled, unsalvagable mess. You made your own openings as they came, seized your own opportunities.

Somehow it was different this time.

Maybe it was because he'd held it in his hand, if only for a moment. Maybe it was because everything else seemed to have gone right. More likely, it was because Flynn had taken every quiet, secluded moment he possibly could to remind Yuri just how irresponsible and disorganised he was.

For once, Yuri didn't have it in him to defend himself.

Instead, he had found a quiet place against the back wall to scan the crowds, arms folded and eyes uselessly roaming over unfamiliar faces for any sign of his stray guild leader. It was a lost cause and he knew it. He had tilted his head to the side for a black, disparaging chuckle when the constant thrum of conversation suddenly dipped. The din lowered just enough to let the music roll in.

Yuri didn't know its name. He could have heard the tune a million times before or he could have heard it just once. It might have been played by cheap string quartet, or by the Zaphian Symphonic Orchestra… either way, he'd have recognised it anywhere. It had been playing in the sunken Myorzo.

It had been playing when Estelle had asked him a question that had changed both of their lives.

"That tune…" he muttered, distracted.

He turned to try and pick the orchestra pit out through the shifting masses, but couldn't locate where the melody was coming from. He was so preoccupied with the song and the heady memories it had lifted from his bleak thoughts that he hadn't realised someone had arrived at his side.

Their voice was a sudden, unexpected intrusion.

"It's Desmarais' Springtime Sonata," Sodia clarified curtly.

Yuri turned slowly, eyes wide.

She stood stiff as a board, both arms locked straight at her sides as if she was awaiting an order from her precious Commandant. Her eyes were very deliberately aimed straight ahead. Flynn was nowhere to be seen. Yuri stole a glance around, just in case, but there was no immediate reason for her to be there. It was just her.

It was just Sodia, standing there and looking as determined as she was uneasy.

"Lieutenant," Yuri acknowledged, warily studying her from the corner of his eye. Somehow her posture hardened further, and her fine brows knotted over her averted eyes. She might have been made out of stone, for all that she moved.

The silence was a jarring contrast to the pleasant, warm melody that continued to pluck at Yuri's senses.

"… I take it you're not here to talk about music," he attempted dryly, pushing himself up from his slouch against the wall.

Her arm was suddenly barring his way, as straight as a sword, fist clenched just before his chest.

Yuri stared down at the offending barricade mutely. It took a while to process what it meant. If she picked a fight here, he wasn't sure how he was going to handle it; how was he supposed to retaliate without sending Flynn off the deep end or, more importantly, upsetting Estelle's carefully organised celebration? How did you avoid confrontation without... well, confrontation?  
He waited a heavy moment for her to make her first move, but she didn't.

He cast her another sidelong look.

"This is getting a _little _old," he began in a low voice. "We gonna stand here all day or are y-"

"-ours," she managed through an expression of pure discomfort. Yuri blinked. When he didn't reply, she gave her fist another curt shake. "This is _yours_," she repeated awkwardly, impatiently. Yuri turned his eyes back down to her fist. He realised that she was holding something.

The world continued to turn without incident when she dropped a velvet case into the hand he hesitantly lifted.

"That's-" Yuri managed, dumbstruck.

"You're reckless. Keep a tighter reign on your possessions," Sodia rebuked snippily, bright red. Her stiff arm snapped back down to her side once more, straight as ever.

Yuri struggled for words. It took him long moments to realise that there were none. He stared at her a little longer, but she had turned her face aside to look intently out over the crowd in the other direction.

"The Commandant and her highness are by the throne dais," she said next, but all he could see was the edge of one red ear.

Yuri shook himself back to the present. He stepped forward, suddenly back on track.

"Lowell," Sodia called out abruptly. He paused reluctantly, then forced himself to turn and look at her. She wore an expression so conflicted that it tugged at the corners of her mouth in strange ways. It settled into a grimace when she finally lifted her eyes. They were open, filled with more depth and unspoken explanations than he had thought possible. She nodded, once. "… The royal grounds-keeper has finished remodelling the terrace," she managed thickly. "I… I hear the rose gardens are particularly pretty at night. Very… very romantic. I-it's closed to the public right now and strictly off limits. Remember that. Off limits."

Yuri searched those unguarded eyes a little longer, too surprised to respond. And then he smiled.

"I'll remember that," he replied honestly. "… Thanks, lieutenant."

She nodded once more, then turned away with mechanical finality. Yuri's smile morphed into a grin when he returned to pushing his way through the extravagant crowd.

Colour slipped past his vision in an inconsequential blur, nothing more than a muddled mess of satin and lace and taffeta. Strangely, it was impossible to be lost in it this time. Yuri simply followed the sound of that haunting tune, one step at a time.

It had flooded his head and cleared out all the excess noise by the time the dais broke the crowd into a spattering of noblemen and familiar faces.

Flynn saw him first. The exasperation in his eyes melted away once he registered the expression on Yuri's face; the Commandant was smiling when he deliberately returned to his discussion with Ioder and Clarin. The future Queen was the second to notice, and she had half raised her hand before Ioder abruptly caught it and eased it back down again. The Emperor's tactful little clearing of his throat could be heard over the genteel murmur of conversation.

And as simply as that, Yuri was forgotten.

He smirked, tossed up the velvet box up in his hand, then caught it again with a deft snap.

He held it at the small of his back when he slipped through the very last of the crowds and, lightly tapping Estelle on her left shoulder, ducked around her right.

She turned on the spot, managing a full circuit with a bewildered look on her face.

"Yuri!" she scolded when she finally caught sight of him, embarrassed.

"Hey," he replied mischievously, tipping his head in her direction.

"We were just wondering where you went," Estelle said next, barely noticing the improper proximity. "You disappeared so suddenly! Is everything alright?"

It was. She just didn't know it yet.

"Yeah, sure," Yuri said flippantly. He swept his gaze over the official looking assembly around them, then gave her a grin. "Hey, it's getting pretty crowded in here. Got time for a midnight stroll?"

She blinked at him, surprised. Without really waiting for a reply, Yuri dropped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a little nudge away from the dais.

"Oh, um… I suppose so," she said, a little baffled. "Sh-should we invite Flynn?"

"Not where we're going."

She bumped against his hand when she began to drift in the wrong direction. He lightly corrected her.

The crowd parted for them easily.

"Um, Yuri? Where are we going?" Estelle asked when they'd bypassed the last of the party.

He squeezed her shoulder then, running a reassuring line over the curve of it with his thumb. He dropped his face slightly and smiled.

"Oh, I just heard something about the new gardens is all. Supposed to be something else at night. It's strictly off limits as well, so that's got to add to the fun, right?"

"Yuri!" Estelle chided, but she was smiling fondly.

"Well, what do you say?" he asked her lightly.

She sighed then, long suffering and just a touch excited.

"Of course," she mumbled. "… But then you have to tell me what this is really about!"

"Deal," Yuri replied, and meant it.

He gave her a little nudge then, ushering her towards the flimsy rope barrier that cordoned off the hall that circled the terrace. She giggled like she was a felon when they slipped past it and into the dim passage beyond.

And as Yuri left the shifting, laughing celebration behind, the world continued to turn. His hidden hand tightened possessively around the velvet box, and he grinned.

For the very first time, what he wanted was solid and real and soundly in hand. For the first time ever, he had dared to plan for a tomorrow that was his.

His future started now, and Yuri Lowell could hardly wait.

.  
_oOo_  
.

* * *

**A/N: The end.**

**Thank you everyone for reading!**

**It's been a long year and a half, but we made it all the way to the finale! It may be a flawed and messy tale, but it has quite a bit of my heart stamped between the lines and I'm so very glad I did it!  
I want to thank everyone that got this far in reading Homecoming, and I especially wanted to thank everyone that took the time to review and tell me your thoughts and impressions. The past year has been a strange time in my life, not the least being the death of my best friend and the slow shutdown of my beloved company. I would definitely have given up at multiple points if not for your support and kind words... We made it! Too awesome!**

**I got to blow up Dahngrest, sink Myorzo, cut Temza in half and scrap the Fiertia. I even made Yuri powerless, had Estelle stand on her own two feet, made Raven step out of the shadows and had Rita drop logic for sentiment. I had unhealthy amounts of fun.**

**I'll leave you with one last heartfelt thank you, and I'd love to hear what you think now the tale has been told!**

**Until next time, M.M**


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